It Didn't Matter
by Kilani Heals
Summary: In a world where there is no magic, and no myth, Edward is a high school senior in the year 2003. Alternate Universe, Edward-centric; a serious story where there would Twilight characters AND non-Twilight ones.
1. Only Seventeen

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize, and everything you don't recognize.

Dear _**Reader**_,

**THIS IS A WARNING**. This is an Edward-centric fanfic; not Bella-centric. It's an alternate universe. All are human. There will be an original character. I will try to keep from bashing Billy and Jacob Black, and Sam Uley as much as possible; but I make no promises.

Thank you.

Sincerely,

June

Dedicated to Miss Ferrin Landry. Thanks for giving me the license to keep going with this.

Thanks to my beta readers: _Bella4Edward_, I couldn't have decided on where chapter one ends without you; _technically a lie_, for being a great sport (you know what I mean!) and _flamingo1325_, you are awesome – rock on!

**It Didn't Matter**

**Chapter One: Only Seventeen  
**

_**?/?/2029**_

I had to hand it to Fate. She really knew how to play with her subjects and make them know it was her doing.

I approached the forlorn figure of a young man, nearly eighteen. He was sitting on a bench in a park, letting the rain drench him. I handed him a towel and a jacket before setting another on the spot beside him and covering both our figures with an umbrella.

I had been afraid of this. I've seen the signs. I thought I had warned him enough. But it seems that whatever he felt, he really wasn't ready for. I didn't speak, intent on letting him do so first.

"Dad?" My son's eyes darkened and were full of pain. I would know that look anywhere. I had it more than once, when I was his age. "So, who told you?"

He looked like me, except for the hair. That dark mop on his head, he got from his mother in abundance.

But that wasn't just the quality he got. My son was very perceptive, just like his mother, my wife. "I just know, kiddo."

He scoffed. "Are you going to tell me the same shit everyone's been telling me, then?"

I smiled wryly. "Nah. I know I've told you enough in advance. But I will tell you, it does get easier… over a long period of time."

"How do you know?"

"Kid, I have about twenty-five years on you. Give me some credit!"

He laughed, his green eyes (like mine) sparkling. "So being old comes in handy sometimes, after all."

I ruffled his hair, earning a lovely squawk of indignation from him. "Well, your old man might have been through the same sort of thing when he was your age."

His jaw dropped. "No way, you and…" he didn't continue the sentence when I just nodded. He was silent for a while before he said, "Uncle Emmett told me something about that! But I never believed it."

I nodded grimly, "Well, believe it. Your uncles and their wives were front row-and-center spectators and had season tickets."

"So what happened?"

"I came to the conclusion that enough was enough. Then I pursued your mother relentlessly until she gave in. Well, there were a couple of bumps along the way. But, they were minor and insignificant."

"So, you guys just got together? I mean, I could honestly see how things turned out… but that must have been messy."

"Yeah, you're right. It wasn't easy _and_ it was really messy, but it didn't matter – I love her that much."

"So, what should I do? Pursue the girl until we get married? Because everybody says I'm like how you were with mom, dad. I think forever when I see Jane." He muttered the last. "Well everybody but her, anyway."

I sighed. "As a parental unit, I think this is something I cannot tell you exactly what you should do. No matter how much I want to. I can only guide you, right now. So I'll tell you my story."

My son made himself comfortable as I began my story.

"I was in love with my best friend, who happened to be a girl. We looked like childhood sweethearts, and it never mattered to us that we weren't. Years passed by and high school rolled along. Every one we knew assumed we were together and left us alone, betting on the day when we would officially announce that we're together."

I saw him roll his eyes. He was about to interrupt when I raised a hand - he took it as a sign to remain quiet. My story was not as trite as he thought, or as he would think. And I knew him well. The reason my wife and I have never told our son of how we got together was because he would always jump to conclusions. As I usually did, and still do - if I had to be honest.

So I continued, "But then my best friend met a boy, who also happened to be my friend. We went on a trip to a local beach before our sophomore year started. She became infatuated with him especially when their fathers, who turned out to be fishing buddies, egged them on to be together and struck a relationship with him at the end of that year."

Looking back now, I'm actually very surprised I never saw it. I guess, I was just too blind, and self-involved.

"Sounds familiar. Except for the field trip and the fathers egging them on."

I chuckled at my son's evident sarcasm. "Yeah. That summer before junior year, though – I was lucky. We went on a summer field trip to Europe, which we signed up for before she met him. So I didn't have to see them. And it didn't seem like anything has changed between us when we toured Europe. But then, we got back and senior year hit. The other guy was always there, marking his territory, kinda like a dog." I smiled at the memory, knowing everyone but she thought of him like a little mutt.

"You mean he peed on her?"

"Not quite, but he might as well have. He kept dousing himself with aftershave and some matching cologne; so that she'd smell like him. She never really minded, having become desensitized to his smell. But other minded. The girls your uncles and I knew, who had actually admitted this to me, once told me that they could be ten feet away from him with the wind blowing the other way and they would still be able to smell him as if they put their faces on his neck."

My son made the most fantastic face. "Ew."

"So in that aspect, I had some sort of consolation. But one Friday in my senior year, in October, everything changed."

I closed my eyes, and told my son all I knew. I spared him no detail as I told him this:

I've decided I've had enough of everyone's pity and everyone's looks. I've just had it. So what if she was the only girl I've ever dreamed of being with? So what if we've been best friends since I can remember? So what, if I loved her so much and she was _with someone else_?

It's not like she knew how I felt. I never told her – never admitted it out loud to anyone, and I don't blame anyone, least of all her, for not piecing the puzzle together. But, it's not like I didn't have her in my life at all. I was glad that we were at least friends. I know I was incredibly masochistic. But, I was still happy to be part of her life. Even if it wasn't the part I wanted, exactly. _That I was just her best friend_.

It didn't matter that her boyfriend, who was an immature turd by the way (although it was apparent that our friends and I were very biased about this), was very churlish and threatened by every guy who looked her way, even me – like I can steal her from under his nose. She didn't even know how I felt about her. It didn't matter that said boyfriend got to kiss her, when it was I who should be the one doing so.

It was I, after all, who had put her back together after her parents separated. Her mom neglected her, ran off and left her with her father. It was she who helped me through my own issues when others simply didn't understand. We helped the other battle each others' demons. _That_ was what mattered.

It didn't matter that I love her, while she loves someone else. It didn't matter, that she's with someone who's also my friend. She and I are friends. Best friends. _That's_ what matters. Pathetic loser that I am, I'll take what I can get from her; even if all she could give me was just friendship. I was selfish that way. I wanted her, even if we were just friends.

But nevertheless, I was tired of all the pity glances, the stares, the strong thoughts that seem to tell me that they – even complete strangers, as it were – were sorry to witness her being with someone else.

So, I did what any other seventeen year old would do. After all, I was only seventeen.

It was after school that Friday, and I had asked her to ride with our other friend. Though she had sensed that I was all out of sorts, she understood me well enough that I needed so much space that I needed to go somewhere alone and let me be.

I then sped to my car, and peeled out of the school parking lot; fully knowing that it unnerved her. I'd apologize later, but right then and there I needed to feel the car in swift motion. I had no control of her feelings any more than I had control over mine. My car is the only thing I could control; and that soothed and made me happy. Even if it was just for a little while. I zoomed down the deserted roads of our hometown, got onto the local highway and sped up even more.

I left, but everyone knew I would be back. Of course, I was a masochist. I couldn't help but need to be around her. Couldn't help but just go back for more torture. However, for the next couple of hours, I would be by myself and was able to gather the strength I needed to face through another week, another month, maybe another year just watching her not being with me.

When I ran away that Friday after noon, I never knew what my actions then would bring. But I'm glad, I had done what I did.

And as the tale unfolded, I felt like I was seventeen again and time turned back for me.

* * *

Friday October 3, 2003

That morning he drove her to school.

"Hey," She greeted him as they got out of their houses at the same time. The action having been a constant since they were in grade school.

He longed to wrap his arms around her, and kiss her before getting in the car. But there were three things stopping him. Firstly, they were outside. And both hated blatant public displays of affection that were not hugs. Secondly, he knew she didn't feel the same way. Thirdly, she was someone else's – more importantly, his friend's.

So he didn't. He did, however, greet her back. "Good morning, Isabella."

"Do you have to call me by that horrible name so early, Anthony?"

"If I lay off the first name, will you lay off my middle name?"

"Definitely." They shook on it the way best friends do. She got inside the car and he followed suit. He simply held out the small knapsack he brought to school in her direction and felt her take it from him without even looking to deposit it into the back seats. He shifted gears easily and coasted out of the driveway and into the open road. He felt her searching for his hand to hold as he sped up more than what the speed limit posted.

While no one ever goes the speed limit in their hometown, she still felt jumpy about it. But he supposed it was because he had the car with the functions to go the fastest and he goes up to thirty above the limit, if he felt particularly daring.

He let her take his hand and he moved it to properly hold hers. It was the closest he could get to hold a part of her the way he wanted to.

They didn't talk as he drove them to Forks High. Silence was golden, even more so when he was simply listening to her heartbeat and breathing, the very inspiration that compelled him to compose music for her.

He sighed as his mind replayed it for him. She didn't even know. It's been two years already. She still hasn't found out. Well, he guessed, if she hadn't found out he had the hots for her since forever – she wouldn't find out about the song, either. Even if he did hum the song to her every night on the phone to lull her to sleep.

All the better 'cause he will never have her in the foreseeable future. His hands tightened as he reached school property fairly quickly, a familiar car in sight. He felt her shift her hand in his to make him let go. When he released it, he felt an immense loss. He felt rejected. He did his best to keep his face from reacting where anybody could see it.

He pulled into a space and parked the car. As soon as his hand finished applying the hand brakes, the girl opened her car door and rushed outside.

As far as their established routines were, and they had more than a hundred, this was two weeks old. Well, it wasn't, not really. He had long gotten their things from behind their seats – but she had usually stuck around to fight him for the liberty, even if it was just formalities. But, since her… boyfriend (his blood boiled at the thought of his so-called friend, but really who needs enemies; and he definitely had them - when you have friends like him?) started to come around before school to see her before classes, well... you can figure it out.

He took some breaths to calm and collect himself then reached behind him into the backseat to pull both of their bags. He did his best to avoid gazing at them as he stepped out of the car.

Life is pretty cruel. Jacob was his friend. Was, being the key word. Well, according to him; anyway. On the outside, Jacob sill was his friend. Inside was a very different matter.

He befriended Jacob on a camping trip with his boy scouts troupe when he was seven and the other was six. The boy was naturally adept at all things nature. They had butted heads, but by the end of the trip, over campfire stories – they had learned to get along. Every summer since then, they hung out at La Push, until he graduated from Eagles the summer before freshman year.

Like the boys they were, they teased each other about their ladies. Like the boys they were, they didn't give each other any real details during those summers. And they never talked about their real interests.

And so, he never knew that his friend had harbored some feelings for the girl he is in love with.

Until last summer.

One would be amused to how the situation was actually funny. They seemed to hate each other at first sight, always getting on each others' nerves. She always called him a twerp. He called her a stuck-up prude. He eventually learned that his friends knew each other because of their fathers. But he encouraged both to get along and not act children. He never pieced the puzzle together, until he saw him kiss her to shut her up.

It was awkward between all three. And he tried to mediate between both, even if the action did betray him – but he did realize he never told anyone, never confirmed what everyone but two already knew so he wasn't about to start then and there.

He hoped she would make the right choice, him. But she didn't. He made his bed, he had to lay in it. (That didn't mean he would be kicking and screaming along the way, though.) Now, he had to suffer the consequences.

He had to watch, as usual, as the kid-in-an-adult's body had wrapped his arms around her possessively; right at, if not already crossing, the borderline between disgusting and appropriate.

But he couldn't help looking at them as he made his way to them to drop off her stuff. She was as pale as ivory, with chocolate locks tumbling down gently at her back. A dark tanned hand was buried in them as two black eyes "gazed" into her expressive, and warm brown eyes. He watched as he placed a quick kiss on her ruby lips before it quickly turned carnal, and felt very disturbed when she didn't smack him or any of the sort.

It seemed that public displays of affection didn't bother her anymore.

He felt a bit suffocated as the guy simply plundered her mouth in the middle of a high school parking lot with no regard for anyone.

A hand dropped onto his shoulder and he looked into the blank but sympathetic eyes of another friend. He felt a bit fortified at the gesture. He wasn't alone.

"Hey, Jasper."

"Hey yourself. Did you do the history homework?" Ah, he knew there was a reason he liked this friend the best. He always helped distract him.

"What kind of question is that?"

"A good one. You know Mr. Pullman never collects homework."

It wasn't a requirement that they take another history class in their senior year. They have fulfilled the required credits for social sciences. But they like history. So they took a course called Non-Western Civilization. A quarter of the year would be focused on Soviet Union history, a quarter on China, a quarter on Japan and the last quarter would be divided for the smaller Asian countries.

Their teacher, while extremely good – better than most, who only put their students to sleep, had one major flaw. He assigns homework he never collects.

Before Edward could even think how lucky Bella wasn't in that class, for the homework was rather difficult, he heard Jacob call out to him.

"Yo Edward, Jasper! Good morning."

Edward put on a great façade, "We have school. It's not a good morning."

"Ah, the joys of being on the reservation." School started at ten, for them.

"It's not nice to gloat," Bella quipped. She shook her head and momentarily stepped away from Jacob to retrieve her bag from Edward. "Thanks."

Edward didn't trust himself to speak so he just nodded.

The bell signaled for the students to go to their first class. And so, two of the four in the group did. Before Edward disappeared into the structure, he couldn't help looking back at the two, who sneaked in one last kiss. He had to smile a little when the heavens opened up and they had to separate prematurely.

And they say rain is bad.

- -

He and Jasper got to history with five minutes to spare. They slid into neighboring seats in the middle of the room. They didn't talk as they got their school things ready for class and looked over their homework for the last time. A small ruckus caught their attention as the popular kids walked into the classroom.

In the lead, a petite girl with long, black hair that didn't quite suit her face daintily sat in the seat in front of Jasper as her friends in Forks High sports jerseys and jeans pushed each other around. She was wearing a cheerleading uniform reminding the student body that it was game day, whether rain or … well, rain. It was Forks, after all. Usually, she had a smile on her face. One that didn't fail to bewitch Jasper, Edward noted. But today, she was plainly annoyed.

It seemed to the occupants of the class that the cause was one of the football players behind her.

"Newton, if you don't cut it out – I'm going to bash your head in." A burly figured brunet stated in all seriousness as he addressed a fairly fit yet chubby-faced blond. "Leave Alice alone."

The girl in question raised her hands in front of her. "Emmett, let me take care of this. Mike, I'm going to tell you one last time. No, I won't go out with you. Not if you scored a thousand touchdowns, not if you passed the winning pass. Not if you scored or kicked the winning point. My answer is no, always been no and always will be no!"

Mike, a normally cheery guy actually slumped at the harsh let down. But thank goodness for him, only twelve people took the class, and most (just excluding Jasper and Edward) would never gossip about the event because they were his friends… more or less.

Her fellow cheerleader with curly, brown hair nudged Alice. "Hey, that's a bit harsh."

Another one with ash-blonde locks clucked her tongue. "It's kind of like a totally cruel thing to say!"

"Jessica, Lauren; I've told him many times. I really have had enough. He can't keep doing this just because Bella has a boyfriend who would gladly kick his ass to the moon and back. Not to mention that she has a best friend who would be able to kill him and get away with the murder." At that, she gave Edward a smile. "I don't want him to be able to twist my response the way he wants to, anymore."

He shook his head. Alice Brandon was one of the three of the lot with an actual brain. The others were her cousin, Emmett McCarty and a sweetheart, Angela Weber – who was a state medalist gymnast (not cheerleader). The rest had questionable smarts.

Further discussion was cut off when Mr. Pullman went into the classroom. When the bell finally rang, the first sentence out of his mouth was, "Pass every homework assignment I have given you so far forward." The second was, "Good morning."

Ten immediately groaned while five simply rifled through their binders and handed them in.

Upon receiving the papers, Mr. Pullman began his lecture. "One out of five, huh? One out of five obeyed my instructions at the beginning of the year without question, and without complaint. One out of five of you actually did what you were supposed to do. If only one out of five in the world actually do what they were supposed to do, where would we end up? Years upon years ago, these odds would be accepted without question. When homo sapiens did not know much. When cultures were still developing, civilizations were forming. Today, that is not so excusable. Mankind had built buildings as tall as a hundred floors. People have developed technology nigh incomprehensible to those born as far back as seventy years ago.

"They say ignorance is bliss. But many of this world's catastrophes happened or happening is because of ignorance. You have roles in this classroom. You have roles in your families. You have parts to act as amongst the people you associate with. What do you do in each of them? Do you forsake your duties? Do you adhere to your positions and act accordingly to your responsibilities as such and such?

"I can say one out of five of you do."

As Edward listened to his words, he couldn't help but think that maybe he didn't.

- -

After history, he met up with Bella at her locker where she was already waiting. As usual, she was the only person who wasn't allowed to participate in gym when any sports were involved. She was completely accident prone, and it took her hitting the teacher in the head with a softball and kicking the ball in between the physical education department head's legs halfway through freshman year to receive a permanent excuse.

"Hey Trippy," Edward called out as he instinctively held out a hand which she took.

"Hey, Skippy."

"How was gym?"

"I got to catch up on my reading."

Edward ignored the urge to be sarcastic and make a comment about how Jacob did not give her much reading time nowadays. "Repeat, or new book?"

"I'm trying David Copperfield."

"Ouch. But that's quite different from your usual."

"I know."

"Think you'll be finished before we go to Seattle on Sunday with Jasper?"

Bella winced. Edward barely managed not to react and keep himself from letting go of her hand that instant. That wince was not a good sign. She never had to cancel plans for anything. Sunday was always Seattle Day for the three of them, Bella, Jasper and Edward. Unless one of them was sick (it was usually Jasper who gets the flu on the first week of November and doesn't get to come on two Sundays), or there was no family obligation, all three of them would make a trip there.

They arrived at their English class and slid into their seats. Jasper was already sitting on Edward's right and Bella settled in the chair on his left after she let go of their adjoined hands. Jasper slightly shook his head when he saw them. Edward never lets go of her hand first.

Braving the storm that was sure to follow, Edward asked the question he wasn't sure he wanted to ask. "So, what's up? We're on for Sunday, right? Unless I missed the memo, none of us is sick and the 'rents have their own plans."

The bell rang, saving her from verbally answering the question.

There was a soft tapping sequence from his right, which he ignored even if he understood his and Jasper's secret method of conversation. He couldn't let it alone. Despite Jasper's discreet warning, Edward ripped a loose leaf from his binder and wrote.

___Swan, spill!_

He folded it in half and simply placed it in a copy of Shakespeare Made Easy: Macbeth (the very title they were reading through and studying then) which he handed to Bella. He had to wait for a couple of minutes to get it back, as to not arouse the teacher's attention as she assigned the orators.

_******I was wondering if we could go down to La Push on Sunday instead. The Quileutes are having a cook out, and Jacob invited all of us for it.**_

Edward froze. Then he started to breathe slowly. In and out. In and out. He curled his right fingers into a slight fist, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. He heard a pattern of soft taps that calmed him down, slightly.___Easy, easy does it – breathe Edward._

Jasper could only do so much… he might be able to calm him down a bit, but he could never shut his feelings down completely.

Especially when he thought about the cook out which, was another one of Jacob's stupid machinations of showing off Bella to his friends and family. She could never see it. It was bad enough that he always crashed their movie nights. Now, he was overstepping the line.

He wrote his response.

_Oh, I see. In that case, I'm heading to Seattle today. Would you mind catching a ride with Jasper home instead?_

He focused on the subject – aided by a rhythm Jasper had begun to tap away at his desk, pushing away any other thoughts. Thought like ones where he would like to chop up Jacob Black into little pieces and then hike up Mt. St. Helena then drop all his remains into her mouth. During his wait for her reply, he failed to comprehend how Macbeth started to lose his mind; though he did try.

A few minutes later, he received her reply.

_****__**I hope you're not mad.**_

He didn't bother to wait this time. He had to give her his answer immediately. He scribbled away and sent it.

___No I'm not, but I am a little disappointed. We were supposed to check out CD's and books._

He waited an agonizing five minutes before receiving her response.

**_I know, I'm sorry. Wanna go tomorrow instead? I could cancel on Jacob tomorrow since I'm canceling Sunday with you guys._**

This time, he had to use more than five minutes to keep cool. But when he got himself together, he sent:

_No need. I'll go today. Besides, I've been wanting to take the Volvo to the mechanic. I could use today to upgrade her._

He lied. He definitely lied. But she had yet to figure out that his excuses about taking the Volvo to the mechanic (especially since Jacob was a really good one) were all lies to get away from her. A few more minutes passed… and their paper conversation went like this:

**_Oh. Okay. Are you sure?_**

_Sure, I'm sure._

**_Hey, why don't we have a movie night? With just the three of us?_**

He barely stifled a scoff at that. Before he had to think and write back, he was saved by the bell. Their system in exchanging notes, while very teacher foolproof, was very slow. But it gave them a chance to really pay attention to the class work in the Old Days, before Jacob. Or in this case – as it was more frequent after Jacob, it gave them a chance not to answer questions they didn't want to.

And right now, Edward did not even want to answer her inquiry.

He was sure to say something bad.

"So? Movie night?" He felt her hand clasping his again.

Hell. She was so stubborn.

Jasper saved him this time. "I can't do it tonight. I have to finish our homework for Monday and Tuesday. I have duties at the soup kitchen tomorrow and know I would be too wiped out when I get home after. And isn't Sunday Seattle Day?"

This time, Edward couldn't help himself. "Jacob is having a cook out at La Push on Sunday." The underlying derisive tone was not lost on Jasper, but Bella did not even notice it. "Are we going?"

He replied, "I'm going to do the project Mr. Pullman assigned us in Non-West. Get a head start on it so I wouldn't have to worry about it." He emphasized the next words for Bella. "It's really challenging this time."

"What do you guys have to do?"

Edward answered. "We have to make a Russian Newspaper. Everything would be in English, but the design must be in a different format, and the stories must all be about the Soviet Union. Actually, Jasper – it's not a bad idea to get a jump on it." He was glad that Jasper was there to bail him out. Especially since Bella wasn't focused on the movie night that would start out fine then have an uninvited guest.

"Oh." She sounded put out.

Edward suddenly felt like wiping the frown (which has yet to make an appearance) off her face. "How about we'll do this; we'll do the project but we'll stop at four or so. We'll just head there around five; then listen to Quileute folklore at the sun sets?"

She smiled at that. "I'd like that."

Jasper just inwardly shook his head as he saw Edward smile back.

- -

Lunch was no big affair. They took their seats somewhere off the side, close to the windows, in the circular layout of the room; far from the entrance and exit, and away from the lunch lines. Their rectangular table was made for eight people, but they usually had sole domination of the area. Once in a while, some people from the popular crowd would sit with them to ask help with homework; or in Alice and Angela's case – talk to Bella. But most of the school year, the table was occupied by just the three of them.

As usual, Edward's mom made him two cold cut sandwiches, this time both triple deckers were made of bacon, lettuce, tomato and mayo. He sliced one of the sandwiches into fourths, and handed one piece to Bella.

"Thanks Ed."

"No problem, Bella."

Jasper resisted the urge to sigh and roll his eyes (not that Edward noticed). On one hand, he really felt for his friend. On the other, he completely didn't. But they weren't his business, so he'd stay out of the entire affair… for now.

He took a look at his very own creation of peanut butter and jelly. While completely grade school, it gave him enough sustenance, until he gets a slice of pizza from the nice cafeteria ladies.

"Hey guys." Two voices chorused.

Bella brightly said, "Hey Alice, hey Angela."

Edward echoed the greeting with a less spirited tone.

Jasper just nodded.

Alice plopped down into a vacant seat at Bella's other side, which placed her directly in front of Jasper. She was finished eating, it seemed she lost her appetite early on. "I'm so tired of Mike."

Angela, who had a piece of bagel with cream cheese, told the group, "He is getting a bit unbearable, Bella."

Bella smiled wanly. "I'm sorry, Alice."

"It's not your fault. If anything, it's his. He keeps twisting our responses in a way that would suit his tastes."

"You've got to know what happened during first period, though!"

And at that point, Edward and Jasper decided to have a different conversation.

Tapping discretely, Edward asked Jasper if he wanted anything from Seattle; because he might actually go there during his planned joyride later on.

No, thanks. Just, focus on getting some peace before Sunday. We both know you'll need it.

_Between Jacob and his dad, you bet I need all the meditation I can get tonight._

So, were you shocked as I was when Mr. Pullman collected all our homework? I am so glad we kept our stuff inside our binders.

_Yeah, that was some class. It makes me won-…_

Their silent conversation was interrupted by a jubilant Alice, tapping madly on the table.

Both guys quirked their brows at her. She smiled innocently. "Care to share?"

"What's to share?" Edward asked in a tone that matched her smile.

She pouted and looked at Jasper. "You guys were talking with those weird taps you do."

Without batting an eyelash, Edward responded, "If we wanted to share, we would have been talking out loud."

"Oh poo. Spoilsports. Anyway… Bella tells me you guys are planning to work on the history project most of Sunday." She of course, had quirked an eyebrow in a silent question. _Escaping the Snog Fest?_

Jasper nodded in acquiescence at… both of her questions. "I thought it'd be a good idea to get a head start on it."

She clapped her hands. "Can I join you guys?"

Edward inwardly chuckled and tapped. _Go for it, man._

Jasper replied almost immediately after that, "As long as you don't steal my ideas."

"Why on earth would I do that? _You_ shouldn't steal _my_ ideas!"

And so Jasper and Alice started bantering back and forth.

Bella shook her head as she laughed at their childish antics. "They reminded me that I need to do something…" She looked around. No lunch monitors were looking her way. After she deemed the coast was clear, she whipped out her cell phone.

Edward had to look away from the obvious joy on her face. It was unbearable to look at… he took a gulp of water to get rid of the sudden sensation of being a man in a desert without hope of having civilization in sight.

- -

By the last class of the day, Edward was ready to bolt. Jacob had started sending Bella text messages during lunch, after she sent him one where she told him about Sunday. Many made her giggle, as most included the fact that Jacob was going to attempt matchmaking between Leah and Edward.

The bell signaled the end of the day, and many rushed to the doors; Edward (who was faster than them all) in the lead. He made his way to his locker and took what he need, left what he did not. The last object was dropped unceremoniously in the middle of the miscellaneous materials before he closed the door and slung on his jacket then shouldered his pack. He already had his keys in his hand as he ran through the throng of the crowd as swiftly as he could.

He exited the confining structure and got into his car. He slipped the key into the ignition and started the engine. Driving one-handed as he buckled up, he peeled out of the parking spot after two students got out of the way. He spotted two people he knew would disapprove of his reckless driving in the mirrors.

Normally, he would have slowed down. But he was angry. Right now, he didn't care. He knew he couldn't control anyone's feelings. But the Volvo was all he could control, and so he did. The speedometer rose until it reached a speed that satisfied Edward's fancy.

He slipped a CD mix into his player and turned up the volume; the rhythm, and guitar riffs drowned out his breathing, his heartbeat, and most of all, his thoughts. Then he sped away, intent on riding out his frustrations and eager to escape.

* * *

Miles behind… his cell phone was in his locker, abandoned. If it were with him, he would have answered it upon reading the screen. But he wanted to run away, be left alone and not found. "Hey, it's Edward. You know the drill."

He didn't see Bella Swan frown. He didn't see her end the call before opening up her phonebook to call another number. But he knew somehow that she understood him well enough to leave him alone as she gave his parents a call. Even if that understanding did not stop her from worrying, she had no clue what bothered her best friend so badly.

* * *

Dude Looks Like a Lady by Aerosmith was blasting through his car's speakers as he pulled up the gas station somewhere near Spencer Island on Route 2 at nearly ten that night. He bobbed his head along with the words Steve Tyler was singing as he got out of the car to pump gas. He took the nozzle from its sheath and unscrewed the cap of his gas tank, inserted it, clutched the handle and set it automatically then stepped back to let the gas magic work.

He stared out into nothingness, looking back on how he simply drove away from Forks and La Push. He didn't stop at Port Angeles, got on a ferry and then decided to sight-see houses in Edmonds, before going up on the I-5 to the borderline and then back down. He was sorely tempted to cross the border and into Canada, but he didn't. He was making his way back when he realized his car needed food. So he went and fed it.

He ignored how there were enough trees around him to remind him of the place he ran away from, 'cause he did run away from there even if it was only for a little while, and observed the roads. It was late enough that there wasn't a lot of cars about. But he did spy a couple of cars that he wouldn't mind getting, just for the sake of having them. An Audi Coupe here, a Porsche 911 Turbo there, a Jaguar Roadster…

Just as he got a bit carried away with his daydreams, he heard the tell-tale click of the gas nozzle and looked at the gas pump. Forty-nine dollars and fifty-eight cents. He carefully pressed the clutch of the nozzle to bump the numbers up, rounding the amount of gas at fifty before removing it completely and setting it back where it was supposed to be. He paid the machine with cash and got into the car, turning it on as he fastened his seatbelt.

He went on first gear and switched to the second gear as he got back on the local highway. Eventually, he made his way up to the fourth; playing it safe and following normal traffic speed since it was a Friday night and the cops were on the prowl for drunk drivers and the like. He was driving for a little while, when there was an extremely fast CR-V coming his way. It didn't look like the driver saw him. He narrowly avoided the incoming SUV, feeling as if he saw his life flash in front of his eyes, but he safely swerved out of the way and honked his horn.

In the rearview mirror, he saw the car swerve, and slowed down to a halt but hit a tree on the side of the road. His heart beat a bit faster.

"Shit." He uttered, feeling stupid for leaving his phone when it could have come in handy.

He did not need to look and see if there was another car coming, the road was deserted. He made a u-turn and pulled alongside the other vehicle, thinking as fast as possible. The hood was completely totaled, the windshield was broken and the air bags had already finished deflating. The engine was letting off smoke, and he wrenched his door open to get to the other car in time. He saw a girl with black hair, quite unconscious in the driver's seat, but thankfully no one else.

He yelled, "Hey, miss?," as he knocked on the window, but she did not stir. He tried the handle and it was luckily unlocked. As he thought about what to do, he breathed to calm down. Panicking never did anybody good.

He remembered from some first aid courses that until he has determined the extent of her injuries, he shouldn't move her unless there was a gas leak problem. She didn't look injured, at all, but she was unconscious. He checked her wrist and found that she had a pulse. He didn't know how to check her eyes for dilation problems or anything like that so he quickly, but thoroughly checked her body for blood or any obvious injuries.

There were a couple of scratches on her wrists, but they looked minor and insignificant. Her head and neck looked fine, it seemed her seatbelt and the air bag saved her from a world of hurt. But carefully, he reached over and unbuckled her. He made sure to hook her left arm around his neck and over his shoulder carefully then reached behind her back, and under her legs to lift her.

He pulled her out, which was difficult, given that she weighed more than she looked. With strength he didn't know he had, he hauled her all the way to his car, and settled her in the passenger seat; adrenaline fueling his system the entire time. He was very careful not to jostle her around when he set her down, as he didn't know if she broke anything.

Then he went back to the girl's car. The interior smelled of burnt air and rubber, and he quickly fumbled for her keys to turn off the SUV. He pulled the key out and looked around. He spotted a messenger bag on the passenger seat and grabbed that. It was pretty light, and he opened the main zipper to find out that it contained a cell phone, a wallet, a digital camera and an iPod Nano. Then he opened the compartment and pulled out the car wallet, and whatever it contained. He stuffed the items in the bag. Then he checked the little cubby in between the driver's and passenger's seat, taking the valuable contents and bagging them as well.

Then he returned to his car, locking the other car before he went. Before he moved, he shuffled through the contents of the girl's bag and searched for her phone. His heart raced as he couldn't seem to find the gadget among the million knick knacks in the bag. He didn't know if she had any internal injuries. He didn't know if she was fine. She looked like it. But he wasn't a doctor. He wouldn't know!

Thinking that a little bit of faith wouldn't hurt anyone in this situation, he prayed. He was feeling guilty. He might have caused the accident; if he didn't honk at her and maybe startled her; she might not be unconscious or falling slowly into a coma. He'd have an accidental murder on his hands. What would his parents say? Most of all, he was the only one present; could the reason of the accident be him? If she died… "Please, God. Don't let this girl die on me." Then, as if his prayers were answered he found it, and learned quickly on how to operate it.

He dialed 911 and waited for assistance.


	2. 214

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize and everything you don't recognize

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize and everything you don't recognize.**_

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Dedicated to those who are dutifully waiting for this one to come out.

Thank you to everyone (all three, you guys rock; glad you enjoyed the sneak peeks as well) who reviewed; and a BIG BIG THANK YOU to the two most awesomest (yeah, that's right! Or incorrect, rather… grammar-wise anyway) betas you know who you are! I could have to make this chapter impeccable… even if only in my eyes.

**It Didn't Matter**

**Chapter Two: 214**

_**Friday October 3, 2003**_

He answered the questions he was asked, as he knew best. The cops, who were rightfully suspicious at first, were impressed by his heroics and praised him for being not only a quick thinker but a considerate one as well.

He felt quite unhinged the entire interrogation process. He only did what his parents raised him to do (help people out)... or so he thought. He would have pulled _**any one**_ out of that car. Even if it was a three-hundred-pound wrestler, he would have tried, or died trying if it was life threatening. Sure, that wouldn't exactly be productive, but at least he would have done something.

That moment he pulled that girl out of that car did more for him than the girl, he realized. He felt many things. For one, he felt good about himself. His morale received a huge boost after he felt so low the whole day; like the accident was actually the brightest point of the time (and he knew how wrong that might sound to others). In addition, he didn't have to think about Bella, or feel completely, and utterly despondent. Finally, he felt in control and he liked that feeling; relished it and missed it.

He was always in control, even as a child. It was something his mother praised him for. He had control of his mind; he had the focus of a thousand winners. He had a poker face many gamblers would kill to have. With Bella, he prided himself in being able to hide his feelings for her even if it killed him.

And though he suffered through silence, it made him feel a bit better that there was always one thing he could control other than his car: himself.

However, there are times he couldn't feel that. And lately, the times have increased. It upset him, and unnerved him. Until that accident.

Not only did he safely maneuver the car out of the way, he was able to control the situation afterwards. He saved the girl. He called for assistance. He was now at the hospital where he might be waiting to hear about the girl but he had free range of what he could do now. There were a lot of possibilities and that thought made him feel stupendous.

He had to thank the cops as well for letting him keep her belongings with him. He took some time rifling through them in order to find out more about her, especially when they filled out some papers for her. He felt no less guilty about the accident, but just looking through her belongings occupied his frazzled mind and helped him calm down.

He found out little things about her, even if he felt awkward with the fact that as of then, he knew more about her than she knew about him. He never knew so much about one person and while that person didn't know about him. For example, her name was Kilani Sy. Her birthday was not far off from his, though she was a year younger. She lived two hours away from him, and she was homeschooled.

And that was just a sample of the information he found out in only a half hour about her. But it's been nearly two hours since she was admitted. He felt a bit agitated, so he tried phoning some people on the girl's phone contact list. Her phone list, while there were less than thirty entries, was full of nicknames and abbreviations except for a couple of people and establishments. He looked at all entries thoroughly and studied the contents to find out if any match the name of her guardian on her insurance card to no avail.

He was disturbed to find his search fruitless. He couldn't make head nor tail of the contact list and was not about to call every single number on the phone even if the list was short. But he thought of one last thing he could do before he decided that girl was just completely strange. He tried her speed dial. As he placed each phone call he wondered how the girl's mind worked. Before he knew it, he finished the very short list and gave up.

Footsteps echoed the nearly empty hall where he was waiting and came to a stop near him. It was the doctor. He was a young man and looked not much older than he was, but he looked every bit of the professional he was.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Cullen." The blond man in blue scrubs held out a hand. "Miss Sy is my patient. I understand you're not related to her, but have you contacted her parents? She's stable, by the way. You did a good job pulling her of the car and calling 911 when you did."

"Thank you, sir. I'm Edward Masen." He said, shaking his hand. Then he shook his head. "The insurance card is under a name that is not in her contact list. I gave those on her speed dial a call, and left a message with those that were not food places or stores.." It turned out that out of the eight numbers that weren't nicknames, six were store numbers. A Borders Bookstore, a Chinese restaurant, a Japanese restaurant, a pizza place, a music store and a used bookstore.

"Who were they and when did you try contacting them?"

"The first on her list was a guy named Tristan, but his cell phone was turned off so I just left a message, saying that he didn't know me but he needed to give Kilani's cell a call as soon as he gets the message. The second one was a girl, named Lisa. I left the same message when she didn't pick up. I just finished giving them a call, actually."

As soon as Edward finished the sentence, the phone rang. It was Lisa.

He picked it up, at the doctor's okay, and said, "Hello?"

There was a pause, before the words, "Either you've finally found that toy Macaulay Culkin had during Home Alone 2, or you're not Kilani.," came through the line. The voice had a groggy tinge to it.

"No, I'm not Kilani."

"Ok. This doesn't sound good." She sounded more awake. "She never lets any one use her phone and she definitely doesn't call me at midnight."

Dr. Cullen motioned for the phone and Edward gave it to him, wordlessly. Then the boy gave the doctor some privacy and paced, the messenger bag full of baubles that he didn't own slung across his shoulder.

As he did, he remembered that he had studied the contents of the bag as he waited for an ambulance to come for the girl. He found out that she was only sixteen. She lived in Edmonds , and was a proud organ donor.

Her hair was black, her almond-shaped eyes were brown. Her skin tone was a nice hue between copper and yellow; she was lighter-skinned than Jacob. She was, obviously, of Oriental descent. She had an eclectic taste in music. She considers Chase Crawford as her future husband and Robert Pattinson (a little odd, considering many had said he, Edward, could have been Cedric Diggory) as her dirty little secret. She liked taking pictures of people playing volleyball, and sunrise. She also liked figure skating, as she took a picture of herself wearing ice skates and a shirt that proclaimed her love for it in the mirror. It was the only picture she had on her person aside from her driver's license.

Edward couldn't help but think that with all of the belongings he rifled through, why couldn't he find out how to contact her parents? Where were they? Why was she on the road by herself, driving so late in the night and far away from Edmonds? What was she thinking? Why would she have bookstores on her speed dials rather than relatives, or friends? Did she have any? Was she alone? His mind was full of questions he couldn't answer. Something in him urged him to find out, though. And he couldn't explain the compulsion to find out more about her just by seeing her belongings.

Sooner than he thought, Dr. Cullen finished the phone call and interrupted his musings.

"Edward?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Normally, I wouldn't let a complete stranger stay with my patients. But in this case, I believe you should stay with her, if you wouldn't mind. It would personally make me feel better if I know she's looked after. Her parents live out of the country, she lives and boards with her godmother, a parents' friend who has basically adopted her as her child. Lisa is a friend she made during a figure skating clinic in Vancouver. She told me that her guardian is out of town for the weekend, but made an arrangement with Tristan's family to take care of her during the weekend."

Edward's mind reeled with the knowledge that she was alone in all this. Earlier on, he had decided that he would wait for word about her before he headed home. But with what Dr. Cullen said, he realized he could not in good conscience leave someone in the hospital like this - especially when someone who had the authority to do so gave him the liberty to stay there.

He was raised to help people and a good part of him loved the sensation of bringing a smile to other people's face when he had accomplished doing so. But this was entirely different and new for him. What should he do?

If he went home, his parents wouldn't worry about him - and he was sure they were probably out of their minds right now. He would go back, and everything would go back the way it used to...

That alarmed him a bit.

He looked at Dr. Cullen's patiently waiting face to keep his thoughts from going down that road. Then his mind flashed back to the smoking vehicle and the girl who was unconscious inside. She didn't say anything. She didn't ask for help. But she needed it. She needed _him_. He made his decision.

Edward nodded. "If you're sure I can stay with her, I will."

Dr. Cullen sighed in relief. "Good." Then he waved the phone. "Mind if I keep this for now? I'd like to give her guardian a try."

"Might I have it for a second, though? I'd like to give my parents a call."

"Of course."

The phone was handed to him and he took it, dialing his home number.

"Hello?"

"Hi dad, it's Edward."

"Hello, son. Where have you been, young man? I know it's Friday but it's after midnight, and I know that your joyrides are usually over by now. Your mother's worried, and I am, too."

He knew that his parents were aware that he had to get away sometimes, particularly since the beginning of Bella's relationship. He would be driving for hours, without his phone when it was especially bad. However, this was the first time he stayed out past eleven-thirty at night.

"Sorry, dad. There was this girl driving on Route 2, and got into an accident." He summarized the event quickly. "I took care of her until the ambulance came, but followed everyone to Providence Everett Medical Center. I'm here right now."

"How is she?"

"Alive, sir."

"Well, thank goodness. Do you want your mother and I to pick you up? Curfew is almost in effect."

"No, sir. Actually the doctor has asked if I could stay with her for the night and I accepted. Her relatives aren't exactly here. _No one's_ here for her. I'm sorry if that was a hasty decision, but I would feel better if I stayed with her."

Edward Sr. laughed at that, and it pleased him to know for sure that he had at least one parent's approval. "You don't know how proud you make me, son. I know I've said this before but I hope you never tire of hearing it: I am very happy that you are my son."

That warmed his heart. "Thanks dad." It wasn't often that he would say his thoughts, but he felt like he had to. "I learned from you."

His father guffawed. "Quite right, quite right! Now, may I speak with the doctor?"

He wordlessly handed the phone to Dr. Cullen who took it. He didn't bother listening in on a one-sided conversation. He knew his dad was just going to ask about the semantics of the situation. Times like these made him really appreciate the complete and wholesome relationship he had with his parents. The three of them were close, and they are not part of the average American statistics always featured in the magazines.

He really felt blessed at that point, and remembered then that he must thank God - he did ask Him to help him out earlier.

After he said a short prayer of gratitude (even if only a sentence or two), he looked around the bland sea-green walls of the hospital and observed some of the nurses and doctors making their rounds. Some looked like they needed to be taken care of as well. He made a point to bring them some provisions if Kilani was to stay longer and he was visiting her.

He shook his head at that. He barely knew the girl and he was already making future plans about her.

His sarcastic side argued, well it wasn't like he was planning their wedding like girls he knew do.

That sobered him up a little. He remembered that time…

…… ..._ flashback ………_

_Alice Brandon was such a sneak. She managed to steal his best friend for an entire Saturday (again! This was not the first time!), because her parents were out of town for the entire weekend. She had roped Chief Swan into offering the Swan household for a 'sleepover' (not the first time, either); the invitees being Alice (who organized the whole shebang), Bella (who, by default, was in the planning because it was her house and her room), Angela, Jessica and Lauren (who was sick that time and couldn't come)._

_The occasion (though when did Alice ever need a reason to have a mini-party or a "girls' night"?) was it's the weekend before school started._

_Being a guy, Edward was not invited by the group… excluding Bella (of course). From years before, Edward knew to "save" Bella from becoming into a Bella Doll, courtesy of Alice, and Jessica. Before their womanly assets became a problem, he was a permanent fixture in that sleepover madness; allowing himself to be turned into a doll in Bella's stead. And before Bella and Jacob got together… she could always count on him to get her away from the girls for a time, from a half hour to an hour._

_But this year, their senior year, was different._

_He let himself into the Swan household undetected. He smiled. From two previous get-togethers, the girls caught him as he opened the door, and he got five minutes tops with Bella – simply because he would not be able to provide a surprise attack and steal Bella from their grasps. (It was a small game they played. If he got into the house without letting anyone know, Bella would be able to have a long time out from the girls. But if he didn't, he'd get five minutes with her for the effort.)_

_Today, he was a ninja. And boy, was he good! He quietly and slowly climbed up the stairs… and listened for the girls._

_As it was, the girls were distracted._

_Angela was telling them a story. "So, I came out of the bathroom stall and I saw Ben washing his face from the sink with a camera on automatic taking a picture of the event! I asked him how long he was out there, and he blushed and left abruptly without the camera. I called out loud to him 'Wait! You forgot your camera!,' so he came back round and got it. That was why he got caught by Mrs. Cope exiting the women's bathroom at the Winchester B&B."_

_Edward remembered that. During their field trip, the guys gathered together (as a male bonding thing) and participated in a Scavenger Hunt, of sorts. They all had to do something daring and take a picture of the event._

_Edward had to flip up an Italian girl's skirt in Rome, by the Trevi Fountain (which Bella managed NOT to fall into on their trip)._

_Boys will be boys.._

_That said, Edward contented himself with eavesdropping on the girls outside Bella's room. Maybe he could use some thing on Alice for blackmail later._

_Angela said, "Ok, my turn! I want to ask Alice something regarding Jasper!"_

_He almost blew his cover at the statement. If everyone didn't giggle at the proclamation, he would have been chased out of there with weapons… old baseball bats, and tennis rackets that Edward and Jasper left in Bella's bedroom that they always forgot to claim and Bella never threw away._

"_Okay. I have nothing to hide. Hit me."_

"_Good, because I noticed that during the trip – you and Jasper have developed quite the taste for flirting with each other by teasing one another. What, when, where, why and how did it all start?"_

_Edward heard Alice take a huge breath. "I was panicking. It was the last day of finals and I was sure I bombed Algebra 2 – you guys know how math is not my thing. I was pacing a hole through the floor outside the teacher's lounge trying to come up with the courage to bug Mrs. Larkin to consider giving me a couple of points for effort. And then just as I was about to knock on the door, Jasper came out." He heard her pause. He wondered if she was going to tell the girls the same thing Jasper told him. "He smiled and winked at me then walked down the hallway before calling out to me, 'Go on, Princess,' then just like that, he disappeared around the corner."_

_So far, Edward surmised, it was true._

"_You guys know I won't let him get away with that; so I just followed him and then asked him, 'What's with that?' He had the gall to ask me, 'What?' as if he didn't know… I remember that I just kind of spluttered and that I wanted to call him awful things and stuff but then he put his hand on my cheek and said, 'Jasper got your tongue?'"_

_Everybody in the room burst out laughing, and Edward had to hold back as well – that was totally true. Jasper told him he made fun of himself just so Alice wouldn't feel so bad about the exam… especially when he might have charmed Mrs. Larkin into giving those who worked really hard before the exam a break. That number included not only Alice but Edward as well. Bella and Jasper knew that math was not his forte. He was better off memorizing entire pieces made by Beethoven, Chopin or Lizst. Give him numbers, and formulae – he's just not that great._

_But Edward was getting sidetracked and had to divert his attention back to the girls._

"_So anyway… I guess that's where it all started. Afterwards, it's just a little glance; a little hi or hello until it just naturally evolved into the exchange you see nowadays. When Mike The Pest's not around, anyway – no offense, Jessica."_

"_None taken. I just wish Mike would stop looking at girls who are unavailable and taken by guys who he doesn't have chance against. Speaking of taken by guys, Mike doesn't stand a chance against... Bella, how's Jacob?"_

_Without a doubt Edward knew that Bella was blushing and smiling. It made his chest tight, the wounds of knowing she was with someone else still raw._

_Softly, he heard his Bella reply, "He's amazing. He just takes my breath away."_

_Each catcall and giggle that ensued pierced through his heart like dull knives intent on leaving holes that will never heal._

_To add salt to injury, Jessica kept on, "I am pretty sure he took your breath away on that motorcycle ride. Come on, that guy and leather go so well you'd have to take a step back and just admire." Then she whistled._

_Edward heard a thud and a laughing shriek; he could almost imagine Bella or someone throwing Jessica a pillow._

_Bella's laughter, like the tinkle of bells, shocked him. She sounded pleased, and so unlike the Bella he knew and loved. "Yeah, I had plenty of time to do that…" She trailed off almost wickedly which made the others clamor for her to continue. "Nuh-uh. No more. It wasn't even your turn to ask. Alice?"_

_His feet felt glued to the floor. He tried picking one up. He thought, 'Come on, feet – MOVE!' He really didn't want to listen anymore.. But he couldn't. His feet didn't obey him. It was as if a part of him needed to be there and that part overcame his entire being so he __**was**__ there. He resigned himself to just listen, his chest tightening at every word Bella uttered in her response to Alice's question._

"_Okay, I'm sorry Jess – I have a better question for Bella. What's your dream wedding with Jacob like?"_

"_We've talked about that, actually… it would be on the shores of La Push. We've decided that it would be pretty casual. No cocktail dress for any of the parties involved. He would be wearing a white, button up polo and khaki pants rolled up to his knees and he would be barefoot. I would be in a simple ivory-white dress; sleeveless with a v-cut, the skirt just landing above my knees – I'll be barefoot as well. We would say our vows in the late afternoon, while the warm waters of the ocean lick our feet." _

_Alice sounded flabbergasted. "Wow. That's… going to be hell to plan!"_

_Jessica quipped, "Wait a second… button-up white polo… kind of like what those really hot Spanish soap opera guys wear?"_

"_Exactly."_

_And again, giggles erupted in the room._

_His heart dropped and dropped and dropped. But somehow, he regained the ability to move…_

… … … _end of flashback _… … …

They never knew he was just outside her door. He remembered turning around, leaving the way he came in without a word, feeling nothing at all. Then he drove to Seattle, and actually went shopping by himself; not even bothering to call Jasper for the company.

Further thoughts had been, once again, interrupted by Dr. Cullen. This time, Edward welcomed the distraction wholeheartedly. He noticed that the phone conversation was not yet over and received the device back.

"Edward." It was his mother this time. "I'm so proud of you! But I hope you realize that worrying us will have some consequences. We'll talk tomorrow, when your father and I go there."

"Yes, mom. And thanks, for worrying."

His mom chuckled. "Okay. Now you go on and comfort that young lady. She must be utterly terrified! Oh, that poor thing; she's alone! Do you think I should bring her some clothes for when she gets discharged tomorrow?"

Edward had to thank his mother for being extremely thoughtful. He knew he was missing something. "I think some clothes would be nice. If you can bring two sets of my school sweatpants and - ."

She cut him off, "No, no. Don't even think about putting her in your clothes. But I'll bring some for you."

"Mom, I don't know what size she wears!" He could see the young doctor laughing at him and inwardly swore. His mother always managed to embarrass him without even trying.

"But you think she could fit in your clothes instead of Bella's."

That stopped him dead. "Uhm, yes."

"I'll buy her some clothes for tomorrow." That was it. End of discussion. He hoped the clothes fit, but had a feeling that his all-knowing mother would find, and buy, clothes that would fit the subject. "Anyway, we'll be there tomorrow, at ten with brunch. Do you have any requests?"

"Your cold cut sandwiches? And could you make more just in case?" He thought about how Kilani might abhor hospital food, and if she didn't want to eat much, he could always give the rest to the nurses and doctors.

"Alright. We'll see you tomorrow, pumpkin. We love you."

"I love you, too, mom. Oh, and mom?"

Ever since his mom mentioned Bella, he couldn't completely push away thoughts of her and Jacob. He _almost_ forgot about them. He gathered that as long as he was still at this hospital, and he had strangers to talk to, he could ignore thoughts of his non-existent love life for a spell. Nevertheless, he didn't want anyone (read: Bella - for reasons quite obvious, Jacob - he might be able to come up with something even more drastic to top his near-death experience or twist the events so that Edward would come off bad; and Jasper - who would understand but would have the burden of just knowing) to know what he was up to. Not yet.

"Yes, sweetie?"

"If _anyone_ calls, could you not tell them anything, please?"

"Are you suggesting I lie to Jasper and Bella?"

Edward shrugged. "No, mom. Just don't answer the phone. I'll deal with them when I get back. I just don't want them to worry about me… I'm in no danger or trouble now – someone they don't even know _might_ be.."

His mother sighed. "Alright. I'll tell your dad."

"Thanks mom. Good night."

They both hung up and he gave the phone back to the doctor. "Now, Edward, I'd like to tell you that Kilani is perfectly healthy. She is not speaking to anyone, but she shows that she is afraid of being left alone. We put her in a room with two beds; right now a nurse is keeping her company but she'd like to go home some time. A couple of officers were here earlier, asking her questions as well. But neither they nor the nurse could get much information out of her regarding the accident.. I have diagnosed her silent behavior as post-accident shock and trauma even if I know that it's not the case. Her x-rays and ­brain scans show that she's in superb condition; there's no real reason she should be like this. So that leaves a psychological diagnosis I don't have a license to conduct. The resident psychologist has already gone home but she'll be here in the morning at nine. She'll speak with Kilani tomorrow. But if possible, I'd like you to get her to open up a little, or at least get her to warm up to the idea of talking to someone."

Edward nodded. "I'll do what I can, doctor. I have a change of clothes in my car, if you don't mind I'd like to go get them."

"Of course. Kilani's room is room 214. It's right around the corner, on your right."

"Thanks."

"I'll walk you out, and inform the staff about you."

They went to the front desk and Edward was given an overnight parking tag to place on his car. Dr. Cullen also arranged for him to have an I.D. tag to ensure his stay at the hospital for the night. Then they went on their separate ways. Dr. Cullen went to check his charge and Edward went out of the hospital and to the parking lot. When he got to his Volvo, he opened the trunk and got a duffle out. He always kept spare clothes in his car, in case he needed to change or somebody needed them.

Then he went back into the hospital.

Security personnel, Officer Joubert, greeted him. "Back so soon, Edward?" They got to know each other as he filled out as much as he could of Kilani's paperwork. He and a couple other security guards monitor the halls for unwanted visitors. He and his team were informed of the boy's permission to stay overnight.

"Couldn't stay away." He replied, with a small smile. He held up his bag, "Do you know where I could change?"

"There's actually a bathroom in room 214 on the second floor."

"Thanks." Edward made his way to the room he was supposed to stay in. The door was wide open, letting him see that the room was partially dark. He saw a tired nurse trying to smile at the patient on the bed furthest from the door. The only light was behind the patient and he crossed the threshold. His entrance caught her attention and she sighed in relief. Not wanting to disturb Kilani, he silently motioned to his bag and the bathroom door on his right. The nurse nodded and gestured for him to hurry.

He changed as swiftly as he could and went back in the room. He walked up to the two females and quietly said, "Hi. I'm Edward. Dr. Cullen sent me to relieve you."

The nurse whose tag read 'Mrs. Stratford' smiled and said wearily, "It's about time." She turned to her patient. "Sweetie?"

He directed his attention to Kilani. She was lying on her back, staring into nothingness and he was taken aback by the blank expression on her face. He trailed a sweeping glance over her and was relieved that she really had no injuries further than the scratches he had seen. Those had been nicely cleaned up and medicated. Her left hand was wired to a clear bag, which he had guessed had contained nutrients that were supposed to feed her for the night and the other was firmly holding Nurse Stratford's hand.

When her name was called, she didn't give any indication that she heard it. But the nurse continued speaking. "Honey, someone's going to be here with you; but I have to go now, okay?"

The hand tightened.

"You won't be alone. I promise."

The hand slightly slackened.

Edward stepped forward and into Kilani's direct view. "Hi, I'm gonna stay here with you until you need me to go away, if that's okay with you." He had forced her to see him, and he saw something flash in her eyes. Fear. He moved to the nurse's side and gently spoke to her, "I'm not going to hurt you. Like I said, just tell me if you want me to go. But I'll be here if you're okay with it." The fear went away, and he was glad to see her just observing him. He held out his hand slowly, and placed it on the bed next to their clasped hands. He was giving her the option to take it and hold on to it like she was holding on to the good nurse's hand. He joked a little, when he saw that the hand had slackened to the point where the nurse could easily take her hand back from her but didn't, "Well, I might have to pee some time during the night… but I'll be here."

His palm was facing upward, ready to let her hold on to it like a lifeline. He smiled when he saw her eyes smile a little and actually sweep over his hand.

She turned her head to them and nodded. She let go of the nurse's hand, cleared her throat and actually said, "Sorry." Her voice, while childlike and melodic was raspy; it was clear she hasn't been using it. "Thank you." Then she dropped her right hand onto Edward's upturned one. She felt him squeeze it in reassurance. She squeezed back.

The nurse smiled when the hand that was holding hers transferred to the young man's. It widened when her patient actually said something, and her heart warmed when the little girl had expressed her gratitude. "You're welcome, dear. But if you'll excuse me, I actually do have to go to the bathroom now that this young man had mentioned it!"

In a manner unbefitting an adult, she raced her way to the lavatory.

Edward chuckled and even Kilani smiled a little. They remained in a comfortable silence even when the good nurse exited and waved good-bye. They used the time to study each other quietly, and Edward oddly found himself at peace in the room. He let his breaths match hers. He didn't know how much time passed, but he enjoyed the serenity of receiving no knowing looks, or pitying glances. In that moment, he could almost forget the outside world. Forget everything. Forget her.

But only almost. He inwardly shook his head from going down that road. Then he noticed what he was doing involuntarily and he had to smile.


	3. Getting To Know You

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize, but everything you don't recognize!**

_Thanks for reading my story. Mind dropping me line/review to let me know how I did? -Em  
_

Again, thanks to my faithful reviewers (**EdwardNOTJacob**, **Tinile**, **UpInTheSkaie** and **Mr. Muffinman**). **quietandclear** - I love you for being open-minded. I really do! I wish many others are like you.

I love my beta, flamingo1325, who not only writes awesome stories (rock on, Annabelle!) and looks at my grammatical errors but also coaxes the best of ideas from my mind. Bella4Edward, you also help me out when I'm in a rut. Thanks mucho, guys!

* * *

**It Didn't Matter**

**Chapter Three: Getting To Know You**

--

**_October 4, 2003_**

Edward noticed he was playing with her hand. It wasn't soft; not at all and the thought of it made him want to give her hand lotion – it was dry and if she wasn't careful, it would chap and hurt. Her nails were cut so short that even he, a guy, wondered if she ever had a manicure. He knew that Bella had one at least once a month, courtesy of Alice and her troop… and when they were younger, he had his fair share of pink nails. (Not that he'd admit that to anyone, except for Jasper… and maybe Kilani just to see if she'd laugh.)

He remembered how his mother would always tell him, "You can tell a lot about people by how they dress."

Then his dad would add, "And a lot more by their physical appearance, particularly by their hands, and nails."

Edward figured out a lot about people through those two alone. When he shook hands with people, he found out what they are like. When he saw how their nails were, he knew if they took care of themselves completely.

So he took a good look at Kilani's. Her hand was bigger than a normal sixteen-year-old girl's. He used his to measure both, and he found that they were (mostly) the same size. His palm was only slightly bigger than hers and her fingers were only a quarter of an inch shorter than his. She must play an instrument, or at least have been doing some training to play one.

He noticed that the nails were actually freshly cut, and wondered when she had done so. He deduced that she took care of herself, or at least she did. And then she gave up.

He wondered why she would do that. Then it reminded him of his own life, where he would feel lifeless after being with Bella only to drop her off in Jacob's waiting hands.

He did his best to shake off those thoughts. He breathed in and out to control his wild feelings and focus on what he was doing. Kilani's hand was here. It was her hand he was holding. Not Bella's. It was Kilani who needed him.

He realized he was squeezing her hand slightly, and she was exerting the same amount of pressure. When he let go, she let go as well and his thoughts drifted along…

He wondered what her hand shake would be like. He thought about asking her. Then he changed his mind. He didn't want to come off weird. He shrugged off that idea, and turned to something else.

He didn't know how much time passed that night (and he refused to look at the clock), but the hand holding inevitably transported him and his thoughts to how he would be with Bella. And how comfortable the quiet was when he shared it with his best friend. And how he would watch Bella sleep on his front porch, where his parents installed a swinging bench. He remembered the last day he ever held her like that. Before she and Jacob confessed to one another…

--

… … … _flashback_ … … …

_It was raining, but everyone who lived in the Olympic __Peninsula__ was used to it._

_He never told anyone but, he loved it._

_Not the rain. No, not the rain. He loved the fact it was raining that day because he was with a girl who made him complete._

_She had luscious chocolate hair. He had long taken it out of the ponytail she had it in. Her dark, expressive eyes were currently hidden by their lids as she slept soundly on him. _

_It was almost summer and they had nothing better to do, no desire to study for finals. Jasper was on a weekend trip to __Texas__, where he had to visit his cousins, the Hales. The parents were out, and he didn't feel like driving. Alice and the other girls were doing something exclusive to the popular crowd. Bella's mood matched his lazy one and she suggested that they would just hang out on his front porch._

_And so they did. They started out by sitting across from each other, swinging, until their conversation had caused Bella to tire of the position. And he maneuvered their positions so she would be lying down on her side while he would still sit upright to keep the swing in motion._

_"I want to go to UW," Bella said. "Take up literature and maybe journalism."_

_"You'd do well in both areas."_

_"How about you?"_

_The words "anywhere with you" were about to spill from his lips but he held them back. "__Washington__ State, I've always liked the thought of being a Cougar."_

_"Cougars suck. Huskies are better."_

_"One's a wild animal, the other is domestic. You can't compare the two!"_

_"One is domestic, exactly!"_

_"So, you like to be domesticated?"_

_She smiled sleepily. "No. But I want the idea of someone loyal. Loyal to me, but would still provide a challenge to me…"_

_He thought she was thinking of him. He had been there for her. They shared a battle of wits once in a while. He was loyal to her. He let her sleep on his lap, and swung them on that swing. Maybe he'd tell her._

_She was smiling at him, and inclined her head closer to him in her sleep. He wondered what she was dreaming. Could he dare think that she was dreaming of him? He hoped so._

_He wanted to utter the words that he ached to tell her while she was conscious. And so he did._

_"Bella, I love you." He whispered, as he stroked her cheek and watched while she slept._

_Then she mumbled something in her sleep, as she was prone to do. "I think I love you, too, Jacob."_

_His heart dropped, he stopped swinging and he shifted sharply. The ceased motion of the swing eventually roused her to consciousness._

… … … _end of flashback_ … … …

--

He was wrenched from his thoughts when he felt pain in his hand. He realized he was gripping Kilani's hand extremely tightly. Then he noticed the unshed tears in her eyes, and her trembling arm as she returned the favor.

"Sorry! Sorry!" He let go of her hand immediately, and waited for her to say something.

But she said nothing at all as she shifted a little, to face away from him. Nothing. Not even a whimper of pain when he carefully took her hand again. He kept his touch light, almost like a feather as he cradled her hand between his and examined the damage he might have caused. The redness had told him of the blood that was circulating through it. The slight swelling made him remembered exactly how tightly he must have held it. He gently applied pressure on different parts of the hand, and watched for her reaction to it.

It unnerved him, that she didn't even make a sound. That wasn't normal, but it was like she vowed to be completely silent. He was relieved when she spoke a couple of words just before the nurse left, but now – she wasn't speaking again. Now that his mind has turned to a different direction, he thought and planned how to make her speak. Maybe talking to her would get his mind off Bella; since every time a subject regarding the accident came up – it pushed away all his grim thoughts. The silence reminds him too much of the past. And it made him hurt Kilani. He refused to hurt someone because his control over his body decided to go on vacation while he was on a trip down memory lane.

He also figured that he must apologize to Kilani in a different way, since just the words, "I'm sorry," weren't enough. If he got her to speak, maybe she won't hurt like he'd been hurting. And she wouldn't suffer in silence.

He remembered his mother's words when he was in the sixth grade, before he became friends with Jasper – who was new in school and came from Texas. "When you want people to open up to you, you open up to them first. You show you can be approachable, and that you want to help them."

Bearing that in mind, he thought he might start with introductions along with tracing a line up and down the back of her hand, gradually increasing pressure until he could give it a full blown massage as he spoke.

"Okay. This might seem strange, but I'd like you to get to know me. I know I'm not giving you a choice, but you won't speak. So bear with me. If you don't want to hear me out, just smack me or something." He was smiling slightly at her, to show he was sorry and if she would please let him make it up to her.

She seemed receptive to the idea since she turned to face him with her eyes showing actual interest, and her lips curved slightly when he finished saying the last part. His small smile widened into a crooked grin at her acquiescence. This position not only allowed him to caress her hand more easily, but to also read her face better. So he began, hoping nothing would go wrong with this as he watched her facial expressions, "My name is Edward Masen. I'm seventeen, and my birthday is May 13."

So far, so good; he thought, seeing signs of curiosity dancing in her eyes. It tugged at him, and urged him to tell her more. He mentally went through personal info he'd like to disclose to match the ones he knew about her, and did, "I attend Forks High School, and live in Forks with my mom and dad."

Immediately, a picture of his house alongside Bella's flashed through his mind but he shrugged it off. "My mom is a retired grade school teacher, and my dad is a semi-retired lawyer. Nowadays, my mom would just be organizing some type of youth league since she loves kids so much; and my dad is enjoying the life of a lawyer who doesn't need to work but does when an interesting case comes up." Talking about his parents made him feel better and took uninvited ideas away. "As for me, I'm a senior who is taking college prep classes. I have two best friends." And there he goes again, thinking about Bella. He must have mentioned it too soon.

Would he ever just have thoughts of Forks, or of his life that will not lead him back at one? But then he thought…

Did he want to stop thinking about her? God no!

Suddenly scared at where his thoughts were leading to (even more than where they were about to head earlier about futures and weddings), he spoke, "So, do you plan on holding onto me without letting me go to the bathroom at all?"

She gave him a lopsided smile and shook her head in response. She was definitely amused.

He knew what she meant, but couldn't resist on trying to get her to speak. He had the most brilliant idea. "Okay. Does that mean you're not gonna let me, or you're gonna let me?"

She shook her head then nodded. It looked like she was about to slip.

He felt her about to break down, as if his words had the desired effect. He fed her a line like he would pitch a curve ball at Mike Newton whenever he and Jasper were roped into playing baseball with him and the other guys. Mike Newton detested curve balls. He thought they taunted him; which right now – he intended to do with Kilani. "So, no on the first, yes on the second?"

She nodded. He could see that she was trying not to give in and break her vow of silence, which he felt was stupid. He didn't know exactly why, but he could read her like an open book. From the fear he saw, to how she liked his company (even if they were strangers) and how she strangely felt comfortable in his presence like he was with her.

Determined to get her to make a sound, he mused, "Now what was the first and what was the second?" He had to laugh inwardly at her expression. She made quite a fantastic face and it amused him to no end.

Then her face turned serious. "If I talk, you won't ask me to talk about the accident." It was a bargain, rather than a question. Her voice was raspy, but it was strong.

"I won't ask you anything about what happened before or during it."

Her eyes narrowed. "Clever. That leaves the after the accident part."

He smirked. "Well, I don't know what they told you –"

"Everyone told me that a guy had enough brains to turn off my car and pull me out from it, then search through my car for information so that when he called for assistance and I would be relocated to a hospital; he'd have data to give out."

He pointed at himself smugly with his free hand.

"You used my cellphone, didn't you?"

Taken aback by the vehemence in her voice, he soldiered on with a stuttered, "Yes." He guessed she really didn't like anyone else to use her phone. But then, why was she protective of the little thing? Was she out of minutes? He'll pay for the extra, no problem.

She sighed, eyes showing regret at being cantankerous with him and not wanting to give out an explanation right then. "I don't like anybody using my phone."

He could tell she was trying to apologize by voicing out her thoughts. He tried to let her know he accepted her silent apology in the same roundabout manner, "Yeah, Lisa told me."

She closed her eyes, removing his only chance at reading her mind but when she opened them, the brown orbs were shining with unshed tears. Something hurt her. Maybe someone. She looked around the room. "I have to call her. Where's my phone?"

He winced, bracing himself for a blow up. "Uhmm, the doctor has it and said that he wants to use it to contact your guardian."

It was strange. Her eyes showed she was partly relieved, partly anxious, partly worried, and partly determined. "Crap."

He didn't understand, but still he mumbled a, "Sorry."

"Aunt Esme is going to strangle me."

He raised an eyebrow at the strange declaration. He still didn't know what to make of the warring emotions behind her eyes but he did know that she didn't mean to say that. Not at all. He would have given her space, really. He understood her taciturn resolve; he had a guard up like hers all the time since he could remember. But he couldn't let it alone. "If I may ask, why?"

She deliberated for a little while, but he knew what she was thinking – which was what he was thinking. "Technically, this is a subject matter before the accident and as such not a topic allowed for discussion."

He realized that after asking the question. He shrugged, "You don't have to answer if you don't want to." Even if he wanted her to.

She suddenly ripped out her hand from his and turned on her left side. He couldn't read her with the position she assumed and he had to fight back the urge to make her turn back. And he tried not to feel a bit rejected after the loss of contact by trying to understand why (though he'd find that it was a bad idea). Maybe it was because it always reminded him of how Bella would let go of it. Maybe it was because he got accustomed to it.

He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn't want to think about it. He really didn't want to think about it. Thinking about how he felt so oddly used to holding a strange girl's hand made him feel utterly confused. Adding thoughts of the way he would hold Bella's hand only for her to let go…

It was painful. It tired him. It made him want to ask questions only time, oh slow and painful time, could answer.

For example, he wondered of a painless future where he wouldn't ache because he was thinking of a brown-haired girl.

A rustle of movement caught his attention. Kilani had turned back on her back and fidgeted with her hands. He reached out, but then stopped himself cold – he needed to let her approach him, this time.

She didn't talk at all, and he was afraid if he needed to start all over again. As it was, he knew she was debating whether to shut him out or not. The sentence 'I don't want to talk about it, but I still want to talk to you' was what her body language was telling him. He really should have ignored her slip-up earlier. She shifted again, turning away from his view. He made up his mind. He can't have silence again. Silence made him ache. He opened his mouth to apologize when she spoke and cut him off.

"What's your name again?" She asked softly, taking him by surprise when she reached behind her and blindly searched for his hand. He helped her out, and let her hold onto it like a lifeline.

Oddly, he felt like the times he helped people cross the street. He forced his thoughts to come back to the present before it went on anymore vacations. He replied, "Edward." He watched her, and figured that her wall was coming down as he gently traced circles on her hand.

"Here's the deal, Edward. I really don't want to talk about it right now." She remained facing the doorway, rather than him. He couldn't read her and just waited patiently for her to continue with their hands intertwined. "Let's just… talk about things that don't really matter." He didn't hear it, but he felt her say "_Please?"._

Funny. He got the vibe that she was blocking something when her hand tensed so slightly, like she prevented herself from squeezing his hand because she was thinking of a memory that aggravated her. He didn't blame her. He had a lot of things he wanted to ignore, and to forget. He admired her for her control, when he had none. He stopped that train of thought right there and focused on answering her question.

"As you wish." He said in agreement. He smiled when she turned back around to face him and adjusted his grip to help her out. She was careful not to jostle her dextrose needle around as she laid on her other side to thoroughly lie in his direction. "So, Kilani…"

He paused a little, trying to see if she would react badly to how he knew her name since she never mentioned it but she just nodded – not surprised how he knew - for him to go on. "What do you want to talk about?"

She gave the side of her bed a pat with her left hand, silently asking him to take a seat. He obliged her as she answered, "Anything, really." Then her eyes lit up as she said, "Oh! Lisa and I played this game she made up once called 'I Don't Like, But I Like'. One of us would say something we don't like, then the other would say something they like that is kind of connected to the first topic. Then the second person says something they don't like that is different from the first subject, followed by the first player saying what they like, and so on and so forth. Wanna play?"

"Sure, it sounds like an interesting getting-to-know-you game. It sounds pretty simple."

"Uh-huh! It's very original. You can start by saying something you don't like. Just keep it simple, and light." She warned him, so he wouldn't trick her into answering unwanted questions.

"Okay, okay!" He held up his hands in surrender as he gave her a lopsided smile. She had to smile back in response. "Let me think…"

"Oh, sorry! I forgot to say something. You have the option of sharing your opinion on what the other doesn't like."

"Huh?" He tried not to look so confused but was taken aback by the faith she had in her eyes for him.

Faith?

"Okay, you'll learn as you go." Ah, he understood. She squeezed his hand in reassurance as she continued, "Say something about what you don't like, just anything."

He said the first thing that popped into his mind. "I don't like hospitals." And he didn't. Hospitals meant bad news, usually.

"Me neither, but I like the smell of the disinfectant they use."

He nodded in understanding, not bothering to analyze her response. If he did, he had a feeling she'd close up, again. So he confirmed his assumption for what he might have learned about the game they were playing. "Okay, I get it. I get to say if I like or don't like what you don't like then keep going."

"Yeah, you got it."

"Okay, so it's your turn."

"Very good, you were paying attention."

"Of course, I'm Edward."

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?"

"Oh, err… not really." He replied sheepishly. He was so used to his parents, Bella and Jasper complimenting how he paid careful attention and how it usually made him 'right'. If he recalled details, it was easy to win an argument or debate. He didn't think about how someone like Kilani wouldn't get it and think he was egotistical. He couldn't blame her for thinking he was arrogant. As it was, he knew she regretted the harsh words that came from her mouth.

She slapped her forehead. "Sorry, that was mean."

He shrugged. "It's ok. That was pretty conceited of me. I should have just accepted the compliment and moved on."

"Nah don't worry. I've come across many people like you; I just haven't learned controlling the foot-in-mouth syndrome. _Anyway_, we got completely sidetracked from the game!" She glared at him playfully.

"Oh, okay. Do continue." He shifted a little and made himself more comfortable on her bed.

"I don't like sunny-side up eggs – they make me yak."

"You and me both. I like my eggs scrambled." Even though his rejoinder was a statement, he couldn't help but leave a questioning tone at the end. He wasn't sure exactly if it was okay to expand on the subject. Especially when it was about food.

"It's okay, keep going." She understood the silent question.

He smiled at her perception. He took a moment and was about to say he liked Robin Hood when he remembered the point of the game and changed his sentence to, "I don't like the Sheriff of Nottingham."

"While I agree that he's a slimy character in most adaptations, but I like seeing his butt during the Renaissance Faire in New York." She gave him a smirk as he scrunched up his nose.

He was familiar with the NY Renfair as he'd been to one once. He had uncles and aunts who lived in New York and were very involved with the proceedings. He had grown up with his cousins gushing with his friends about the entire affair (not to mention, witness them do so that one time) and the actors whose butts filled their costumes very well (or so they keep saying). He never saw the hype, but he had fun spending time with his family and being immersed in a completely different world. "You would, wouldn't you?"

"Gotta admire a man who wears tights and wears it well."

He choked a little on the air he was breathing at her proclamation. But he did briefly think about introducing her to that side of the family and how they'd love her! "Please, spare me."

"Why is there always a double standard? You can't tell me that you don't look at girls' legs like other guys do when they wear those short, short skirts they recently designed! You'd have to be gay or taken; hell even if you were taken you'd still have to be checking them out."

He blushed and didn't know whether or not to feel affronted at her bold statements. He decided on telling her the truth though. "I'm not gay but as a matter of fact no, I don't look at girls' legs that way." And it was the truth. His eyes were always trained on his best friend, who happened to be a girl, who never wore those skirts.

He expected Kilani to say 'No way!', but was pleasantly surprised that she just looked at him seriously until he strangely felt stripped. Like she was reading his face like an open book even through all the walls he had put up. It scared him to feel that. Though he was an excellent reader of people, that moment he couldn't make head or tail about what she was thinking.

"Oh." She finally said, and he was overwhelmed by the sudden influx of emotion in her eyes, and on her face. He could practically hear her think that she was sorry about making false assumptions about him. Particularly, by lumping him with the popular crowd and the horn dogs at his school.

He knew that even if she found him attractive, though if she wasn't making any moves on his person – it was apparent that she had pegged him to be a _jerk_.

Then he started to understand something about her. It was because he knew she found him good-looking (if he looked anything like Robert Pattinson, like Jessica had said in passing once, she would) that she was acting taciturn. That fear he read from her eyes was something he recognized quite well. He had seen it enough around girls who looked his way and judged him before talking to him.

But then, he looked into the memory further. His guess wasn't entirely correct. There was something more with that fear. She didn't fear him; she looked at him without judgment – it wasn't till he spoke with self-importance that she really started to form biased ideas.

He shook his head to clear it – he really had to stop over thinking. "Don't worry, a lot of people think like you."

"You love someone." She suddenly declared. She didn't sound disappointed or detached. She didn't sound curious, or nosy. But she stated it like it was a fact, and she was solving a mystery. Like they were two wannabe detectives playing _Where In The World Is Carmen Sandiego? _and she was helping him crack the case.

While he was very much taken aback, he nodded. He shook off the pain that usually came when he thought about _her_. He wondered what gave it away. Then he tried joking, "Yes, I love a she." It didn't work. It still hurt.

"But she doesn't return the feelings, does she?" Her hand tightened in his, letting him know she was there for him.

He squeezed her hand twice, to let her know he understood. Strangely enough, he expected that. He could see the question on her face. And he finally saw that she was feeling the same pain he was; he felt like she was opening up to him more – more than he could ever expect from a person other than his parents. He shook his head. "No, she doesn't. We're two of a kind, huh?"

His thoughts went into overdrive, as usual. He wondered who hurt her. Was it her best friend, too? Maybe a guy she admired in… wait, it couldn't have been a guy she admired in school. She was home schooled. He felt his defense extend, as if he wanted to share his fortress since she could see through it anyway.

Then he had a vision. A small one, as his ever rampant thoughts back tracked to the moment he thought of introducing her to his aunts that were involved in the New York Renaissance Faire. He could actually think of a painless future, maybe even a happy one. He felt a corner of his lips slide up as he inwardly rejoiced at the idea. He looked at Kilani and watched as she just smiled wanly in reply to his question.

Inspired, he asked her, "Do you still want to play?" He offered, not wanting any more silence to overcome them. Because even if there was silence…

He wouldn't be able to brainstorm a future that wouldn't include any aches except for one. He'd concede stomachaches; since his cousins had actually given him stomachaches by making him laugh so much by their silliness during the day. Before he could take a trip down memory lane, he was snapped back to reality by Kilani's voice.

"And risk another derailment?" She was, of course, referring to how they keep getting sidetracked especially when she probably noticed how his thoughts randomly fly to nowhere.

He shrugged. "Not my fault."

"_Ennk!_ Wrong, it's always the guys' fault." She was cheekily grinning at him. "I read that in a magazine, some books, so it must be true."

Oh, he hated those magazines and books. He gave her a sarcastic smile. "Let's just keep going. It's your turn, squirt." The nickname was natural, and it rolled off his tongue. He decided to call her that more often especially since it made her lose the impertinent grin, even if her eyes danced with mirth.

"Okay, okay. Uhhmm… I don't like_… short, short skirts or shorts_." She didn't mind at all that he called her a squirt. In fact, she seemed pleased by it enough to tease him back.

"I like skirts that have the same length with kilts myself." He provided, chuckling at the way she made a face again when he ignored the barb. He continued before she could say something he was sure would turn them from the game again, "I don't like anchovies."

Successfully foiled, she asked him incredulously, "Who does? I don't like people who say they don't like sushi when they've never tried it."

"Never had sushi – and before you get all hot and bothered, I will have you know that I have never said I didn't like it." He barreled onward, reading her correctly and not giving her a chance to interject. "_And_ I will let you take me out to try it. I don't like playing football." He silently implored her to let this go for the meantime and gave her a different 'controversial' subject.

She signaled a time-out. He then realized what the game did. It was an ice breaker. They were meant to get to know each other through the interruptions, the quips and the comments they made. He wondered if Kilani and her friend, Lisa, knew that. He bet that at least Kilani did, and mused if it was actually she who designed the game. He had already gathered that she was a smart girl. "That's a surprise! What do you like instead?"

"I like to run track, play tennis and soccer." He paused only a moment before sharing another piece of information, to test out his theory about the game they started out. "I like to play piano, too."

She gave him a lopsided smile, as her eyes showed delight – yes, the game was a ruse to bring out a real and lighthearted conversation. "Piano was never my forte."

He didn't realize it but his thoughts had stopped running unbridled. "What would you say was your forte?"

"Listening to music."

He laughed. "No, really. What would you consider a talent?"

"Singing?"

"You sing?"

"Yes, but I wouldn't say it was my forte."

"Are you tone deaf?"

"NO!" She burst out quite loudly in protest before slapping a hand to her mouth.

They looked around guiltily, but it didn't look like anyone heard the commotion. Then they burst out into soft laughter.

"You're allowed to be here, right?" She asked him, hiccupping a little; her tired voice finally piercing through his foggy brain.

He saw a ten ounce glass of water on the bedside table beside a pitcher he surmised would contain water and moved. His muscles protested at the sudden shift, but he ignored the spasms and stood. Her hand was still in his so he easily grasped her shoulder and propped her up. "Up you get."

"What? Why?"

He gestured to the table with his lips. "Drinky, drinky."

"Oh, why didn't you say so?!" She helped him prop her up. "Thanks."

"No prob." He handed her the glass. She downed it in two gulps and held the glass out for more. He poured her another glass, which she chugged the same way. "What are you?" He asked as he poured another.

"My aunt called me a mermaid-turned-human, once." She had a bit more difficulty draining the third glass, but that too was quickly emptied as was the fourth… the fifth was partially consumed.

"I've never seen anyone put away that much water in such a small amount of time. And I don't think anyone is supposed to…"

She scrunched her face. The words rushed out and he struggled to keep up with her, "I know I shouldn't have. Sorry, excuse me!" Then she let out a huge burp.

He couldn't help himself and cracked up when she blushed.

"Sorry about that. That was quite unladylike behavior." She said, looking a bit sick. "And now, I feel stuffed."

"You ok?" He was concerned, even if he knew that it was only because she ingested quite a lot of water in a short span of time.

"I will be… just don't let me keel over. Here, if you're not afraid of cooties and if you want, you can have it." She weakly handed him the mostly full glass. He took it, drank without hesitation. He didn't gulp it down like her, rather he enjoyed a couple of sips and the way the cool water soothed his throat. When he finished, he put it back on the table. She smiled at his actions before looking like she's going to be sick in a moment.

"Don't worry, I won't let you keel over. Here," he reached over and rubbed her back with one hand, receiving a look of content from her. The other hand was ready to steady her shoulder if she really was to fall over.

"**Thank you**, Edward." She smiled at him, and he knew from the way she said it that she was really grateful for everything.. She was thanking him for taking her out of the car, to getting her immediate care and for taking care of her now.

He smiled back at her warmly. "No problem, Kilani.. _If you need_ anything else, _let me know_." He tried to let her know in no certain terms that he didn't mind. And that if she wanted anything else from him, she should just say so.

He was glad that she understood and took him up on it. "Distract me, please? I don't really want to think about how my stomach is suddenly overwhelmed with the onslaught of fluids swirling in my person…"

He refrained from laughing; knowing she already felt the aftereffects of imbibing large quantities in double time. He just let her rest for a little while, letting his hands divert her attention from being sick. They enjoyed a couple of minutes of silence (and Edward rather liked having no thoughts for the entire time) before he started humming. He hummed a song that was for someone else.


	4. Tell Me

It Didn't Matter

**It Didn't Matter**

**Chapter Four: Tell Me**

--

_Edward sat in front of his piano with his eyes closed. His hands traveled up and down the ivory keys, creating a repetitive and hypnotic melody. Behind his lids, he envisioned an angel sent from above. She was sleeping, shiny dark brown hair spilling on his lap, or his sheets. Her chest rising and falling. Her breath tickling his skin as she inhaled and exhaled…_

--

He shook his head and realized exactly what he was humming. He cut himself off from the road to more memories and spoke. "Let's go back to the game." He didn't know what to feel except guilt and frustration. He was guilty that he was with a girl he was taking care of, and he had to disturb her for humming her someone else's lullaby (not that he really could understand why he felt so). It just didn't sit well with him that he was doing that. Moreover, he was frustrated _because_ he was _humming_ Bella's lullaby. He shouldn't have been doing that at all. He was supposed to be leaving behind Bella's reminders. He didn't want to think about her, not right now.

He didn't want to feel the pain of recalling bits and piece of her. Even remembering their Jacob-free past made him ache. He wanted the future; a pain-free, painless, pain-absent future which seemed pretty plausible to think about before he started humming that lullaby. A far away future that he was determined to see through simply because he caught a glimpse of one. And that one glimpse was enough for him to make more as a goal.

So he made himself focus on the present; which was no easy task since his mind was so uncontrollable at times. He asked himself questions he knew would lead him where he needed to be. Where was he? At a hospital. With whom? Kilani. What was going on? He looked at her, recalling that he asked her a question.

She was slightly sleepy from his ministrations but his voice jarred her into alertness. "Uhh, what game?"

"'I Don't Like, But I Like'," he said in an as-a-matter-of-fact manner. He didn't like the silence anymore. He felt sorry for Kilani, but he needed to talk. To listen. Anything but silence. He used his gift of having good memory to his advantage. "I just said I don't like football, and established that you could sing and I play piano."

She looked pleasantly surprised that he remembered and didn't even ask him questions. He inwardly thanked her for that. "Uh, let me think… I actually like football."

It was his turn to make a face and stopped rubbing. A girl like her actually liked football? When she had given off the impression that she didn't like those who played the sport, she still liked football?

"Now, now – I meant soccer," she clarified, "Not American football. Only America uses the term football for the full-body contact sport. If you go to any other country, football is a sport where you kick a ball around since you actually use your feet to handle the ball. Except for the goalie. But then again, goalies have the coolest privileges on the field."

He shook his head at her silliness. "Okay, I concede the first point to you." He resumed stroking her back and somehow, he just stopped thinking. Maybe his brain granted him reprieve. Whatever it was, he just went along with it, much to his delight. "I don't think goalies have the coolest privileges – when they get balls kicked at them."

Their conversation just kept on flowing when she grinned at him childishly as she argued her point AND continued with the game. He didn't know how he kept up with the furious pace and keep his hand on her back with comforting circles. He didn't know how _she_ kept it up, either. But, they were so in tune, at that point. Like twins, or something.

He liked that. He liked that very much. It was the most comfortable conversation he had in a good while. He felt free to be… and he wholly welcomed it, not questioning how his replies would come off to her. She didn't know him, but she was getting to know him – without the prejudice of knowing he was one of the inclusive people the town of Forks has come to know. With her, he didn't feel like wanting to hide.

He didn't feel the need to protect himself… or protect her from what he could say. In return, he could tell she felt the same away with him. So their exchange went wild.

"Yeah, but they get use their entire body to do whatever it takes to catch that ball. Plus, they don't have to run around the entire field going after it. I don't like Cocoa Puffs."

"Have you ever played soccer as a goalie? I stopped eating cereals when I turned twelve, but I used to like Frosted Flakes. I don't like starving."

She snorted. "They're GRRRRRReat… if you like cavities! And no, I've never played soccer ever. What does starving mean to you? I don't like most veggies, but I'll eat them."

He chuckled. "Then you can't compare positions. Getting cavities is because you don't floss or brush well – but I digress. Starving means not having a good breakfast; like toast, bacon, eggs and orange juice or even a sandwich. I like veggies, but I don't like broccoli."

Her eyes were lit with passion for the conversation, and he wondered if his eyes were too. He loved the trend of this weird, multi-topic conversation. The pace was exhilarating, and though he didn't want it to end, he briefly wondered who would break down first and struggle in juggling all subjects. "Okay, then when I bust out of this joint – you and I have to face-off as shooter and goalie. What's wrong with broccoli? Top it off with molten cheese and it's amazing! I don't like parmesan, though – so not that. What kind of sandwiches?"

As it turned out, he did. "My mom used to make me these really good cold cut sandwiches (I don't know the ingredients exactly, I never asked) for lunch during sixth grade, but I ended up eating them before my first class. So when she found out, she made them for me during breakfast, too" he confessed. "Actually, tomorrow… well, later on today – she's coming by with some. My parents want to see how you're doing."

"That's nice of them."

"I asked my mom to make more than usual, so you could have some." He didn't dare mention that he'd be bringing her clothes as well.

She shifted and faced him fully as he sat on her right, his hand stilled on her back. "You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to," he answered simply.

She remarked, "You're so different from any guy I've had the opportunity to meet in this country. I think you're Asian at heart."

He took the statement in stride, trying not to analyze it; as it were, he found it very strange that she said that. Nevertheless he said, "While you're right that I'm not a jerk or immature, I have no Asian blood – I am part German, part French, part English, part Scottish, and part Irish."

"You're a mutt," she deadpanned.

He grinned, "Indubitably so."

"Nevertheless, you…" She paused, and he knew she was trying to think of the words to describe him in a non-offensive manner. He waited, almost impatiently. "You're the opposite of immature."

While he couldn't help but think that she was getting even stranger, he joked, "You mean, I'm mature?" Again, he forced his mind to remain in the present, no matter how much it wanted to run off. Especially when she was on a roll. At this point, he felt like she had let him in, as much as he had let her in.

She had hesitated for only a moment before she slowly and carefully replied, "More than that. How do I explain this? You're… like Lisa's grandpa! And I don't mean you're old. But you're like the young guys of the olden days."

He nodded for her to continue when she stopped… then watched as she just spilled everything.

"You're very thoughtful and you have a _very_ good memory. You're very sincere, and courteous. You're very helpful, and caring. You're very polite and good-mannered and good-natured. You don't put any gunk in your hair and you're very simple. You are… well, you're clean-looking, like you take two showers every day, 'cause you don't smell like other guys do. And you have this charming air about you and that's not because you purposely use it to charm me or anyone… but it reminds me of-" at that, she blushed uncontrollably. "You can stop me anytime, now."

He laughed. "Not a chance. I should like to hear what you would say." He was amused. Her words pricked at him. He felt something in him getting stoked. The best part was, he knew she was being extremely honest. So honest that she felt embarrassed by how her mouth had run off like that. And the knowledge turned him into a different person.

She groaned. "You even talk like them! Grrr!"

He knew there was a blush coming on, but somehow she was keeping it down. Whatever she was keeping from him was big. "Them who?"

She shook her head, but he could feel her about to break. "You're really gonna make me say it, huh?"

He quirked his left eyebrow. "Yes. You can tell me, and trust me."

She mirrored the gesture (impressive, given that most people can't raise the right brow) as she replied, "Edward, that's not conducive."

He wheedled without the brow, "Kilani, come on. I promise I won't laugh."

Dropping the expression as well, she muttered, "It's not the laughter I'm worried about."

Edward caught a glimpse of the hand on her back. He had an idea so ridiculous yet feasible it made him feel wicked. He moved it along her clothed skin, up to her shoulder, then to her bare upper arm, forearm and finally catching her hand in his, squeezing it. "You have nothing to worry about. Please, tell me." He could see that the combinations of his words and actions broke her down. And he knew that she wouldn't put a lid on her exact thoughts about him; and even if she did, he would be able to make her give in easily. He found that being wicked was fun.

She narrowed her eyes at him then said, "Okay, fine. You conduct yourself in a manner not unlike that of a historic romance novel hero."

He blushed, not knowing what else to say. His hand suddenly went limp in hers at the sudden proclamation.

She was blushing too. "Don't tell me you've never heard such a compliment!"

His wide-eyed look told her that he never did. He was too shocked. Shocked enough that he stopped reading her, as well.

Him? A romance novel hero? What on earth?

Then he started remembering his mother, and his aunts and his cousins. A brief thought about the La Push boys entered his mind, but it didn't make him ache, surprisingly. They were always talking about him being so cultured, and perhaps unreal but how the girls keep dropping like flies when they encounter him. He felt a smile spread across his face just as Kilani said, "Ugh! I should have never said it!" She pouted and became silent.

He slowly extracted his hand and put it on her back again, moving up and down. "I've never read a romance novel and don't know anyone who reads them. But I thank you for telling me and being honest."

She groaned. "You're doing it again!"

He looked at her with a surprised expression. "Doing what?"

"The charming shenanigan you do!"

He blinked. "I'm not doing it on purpose!"

"Which is exactly why I said what I said! You have to quit it!"

"Then what do you propose I do to stop it?"

"I don't know!"

He laughed. "I'm sorry. But you know, my… I guess you could call them friends… well they call me Grandpa Edward because I do act like one."

"Smart friends."

A picture of Embry, and Quil (two Quileute boys along with Jacob who had helped his troupe so many years ago) flashed through his mind and left it just as quickly. "They are." He sobered up, sharing something with her. "Actually, my parents told me I was born disciplined. They never had a difficult time with raising me. I was a quiet baby. When I was a toddler – I didn't act like one; I read people like I would read books, so my mom said. I acted (and still do) act like I was always judged by haughty people so I would be reserved and mysterious to some people. But, I do act like I was born in the 19th century when the _haute ton_ was still in existence, and there were many rules to live by. I think that's what you were getting at."

She nodded vigorously. "Precisely."

He just looked at her for a moment, his mind completely straying from their current subject upon the breech of subject about cultures. In Forks, the demographic were strictly Caucasians, African-Americans, Native Americans and Chinese-Americans. He had never come across someone who had the privilege of experiencing another culture without being ashamed of it – he had come across many who were reluctant to share their ancestor's customs; though the Quileutes were a race of clear exception. However there he was, looking at someone who could provide him with insight on being one who knew of living in a different culture.

His mind backtracked to his Non-Western Civilization class for a second. After Mr. Pullman's opening speech, he was a bit more intense in teaching. Edward understood what he was trying to do. The teacher was encouraging them to keep thinking, and to keep their discipline in their studies for when they go off to college. But he also said something in his lecture.

"_Many of you don't know this; but in other countries now, the meaning of survival is education. We will talk about that later, when we discuss the smaller Asian countries._"

And so, Edward got to thinking that, he wanted to learn about other people… and who Kilani was, why she was so different from the girls he knew, as well. For all the similarities they shared, they were so dissimilar as well. And that drew so much of his interest.

He was used to knowing people at first glance. And yet... this girl had layers, upon layers like he had them. He wanted to know what was beneath. He simply could not let her make him feel stripped, and not make her feel the same.

He said carefully, "I'm surprised you picked up on it, after all we hardly know each other."

She sighed. "Like I told you, I've never met a guy like you in this country…" she trailed off.

"Could you tell me about yourself? Anything I haven't found out from what I took from your car? I really like to know more about you."

"And what do you know exactly?"

He recounted the things he found out about her. As he did, he noted that she seemed pleased rather than annoyed; although when he brought up her cell phone, her mood darkened and he resolved not to mention that techno gadget anytime soon.

"You might want to lie down for this then." She told him.

"Long story, huh?"

"You could say that." She slowly, as if reluctantly, let him go and he made his way to the other bed. He frowned, calculating the distance between her bed and his. He found out he didn't really like it. They were far enough from each other that they would have to raise their voices to talk. He tried to figure out the mechanics of moving the gurney.

"What are you doing, Edward?"

"Uhh, trying to move my bed closer to yours."

"Why?"

"I don't want to talk loudly. As you must have figured out, you have to speak louder now that I'm over here."

"Good point." She let him be for a moment.

He was getting a bit frustrated. How hard was it to operate the damn thing? He knew there was this little knob he had to step on. He let off series of disgruntled grunts before she ventured to ask, "Any luck?"

"No." He pouted and huffed. He looked for the tell-tale latch on the wheels but couldn't find them in the slightly lit room.

"Edward?" At her call, he looked at her. "It'll be a tight fit but we could share for now." She was looking at him reproachfully, and he knew she was wondering if it was appropriate to invite him to lie down where she was. He smiled at the thought of her letting him in, letting him be closer to her. He nodded at her offer as he walked back to her bedside. He slipped off his shoes as he climbed on her left side, minding the needle attached to her wrist. She carefully scooted to the right until she couldn't any more.

"You don't have to do that." He said, before slipping both arms around her midsection to pull her back against him. He was lying on his right side, comfortable and at ease. The bed was actually big enough for both of them to lie on their backs, but he didn't want her to fall on the other side trying to give him space he didn't need. And he had to admit. In spite of her being a stranger, he felt good cradling her like he would his little cousin; her baby-like scent washing over him as he lay so close to her on the bed. "Comfy?"

"Very." She admitted, shyly.

He noticed the tone in her voice and deduced that she didn't have much male acquaintances. He decided to spare her the embarrassment and took a deep breath before speaking, "So, if I recall correctly – you said I am an anomaly from the guys you've met in this country which leaves me to believe that you have been to others. What countries have you been to?"

"That memory of yours is pretty good."

"Thank you." He determined that he didn't really like this position for it didn't allow him to see her, and therefore he couldn't read her at all. "But if you please, answer the question."

She giggled before saying, "Canada."

He made a face she couldn't see. "That's a given, considering how close we are to the borderline. I've been there too."

"Okay, okay. I have been to Mexico, Hong Kong, Singapore, Malaysia, Japan, North (she shuddered) and South Korea, and when I was five until I was eleven, I lived in the Philippines."

"Wow. That's quite the list."

"What about you? What countries have you been to? And don't say Canada!"

"I wasn't going to, thanks very much. Let's see… I've been to England, France, Italy… Hungary, Austria, Switzerland… Belgium, Germany… Romania, Scotland, and Ireland.

"You're no slouch either."

"Field trip."

"To Europe?"

"Yeah. Last year."

She chuckled a little. "You have me beat."

"I wasn't aware it was a competition."

"It's not."

"Well, it can't be one anyway, you have been to countries across the Pacific Ocean, and I've been to countries across the Atlantic. It wouldn't have been fair… I only have to cross land by train and you would need a plane or a boat. In my book, your list was more impressive."

"That's true, if you put it that way. Did you like Europe?"

"I liked visiting the countries; I especially loved Ireland and Scotland. There's so much history… speaking of which, I have yet to hear yours. What's the Philippines like?"

She took a moment to think. "What do you want to know?"

He let her know his excitement. "Everything! I'm a mutt, and from what I can tell, you're not. I only know bits and pieces about my heritage since there's way too much. If you want, you can't tell me about the weather."

"Well… the climate is not like Washington. Well, it depends on the months… but the country only has two seasons. It's summer from January through May while June through December it's rainy season – although it's still pretty hot all year round. It's really hot during the months of March through May. I'm not sure if you know your world geography, but the Philippines is right on the equator, the weather's similar to Florida. So, if you've been to Disney World during the summer, that weather is pretty much how it is during the entire year except during monsoon season when typhoons sweep through Asia."

"That's pretty intense. And I've actually never been to Florida but I heard how hot it can be."

"It's really hot. Filipinos don't experience sixty degree weather during the day unless they're in Tagaytay or Baguio or in malls."

"Tagaytay? Is that how you say it?"

She changed positions and faced the ceiling, allowing him to see her profile. "Yeah, you got it. Tagaytay." She absentmindedly picked up his hand and played with it. Her voice had taken a very nostalgic tone.

He shifted a little, moving his arm around her new position. "What is that?"

"It's a… city I guess. It's a city in the Philippines which contains a dormant volcano surrounded by a lake. It's called the Taal Volcano. It's not far from where my family lives."

He could feel her relax and open up even more. He liked that. And he could tell that she liked thinking about her family. His voice was soft and gentle as he urged her to talk to him. "Tell me about your family. Tell me about where you lived."

He couldn't deny the compulsion just to hear her talk. To take him some place from where he was. He was still running from his reality. And being with this girl he just met lets him forget, even if just for a while.

She took a deep breath. "I lived in what we call a subdivision. You guys call it a gated suburb. The plot of land where our house is on had been in our possession since the early '60s."

"Plot of land?"

"Yes, when you have land, you have the means of building a house exactly the way you want it."

"Were your parents well-off?"

"Not in the least, back then anyways. The land was... acquired with a joint effort."

"By who?"

"I'm not getting out of telling you just bits and pieces, huh?"

He thought about it. No. He was too interested. In the future, he knows he would want to see this house. He wants to go to Tagaytay and see that volcano which is surrounded by a lake. "Not in the least, might as well tell me the entire story. Who bought the land and why? Who lives there now? What does it look like?"

"Well, the land looked like a field of grass."

He gave her a pointed look. "Funny."

"Okay, okay." She paused for a moment. "Edward, I know I'm going to sound weird but I want you to answer my questions. How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"Okay, when you turn eighteen, where do you want to go? Would you attend college? Work somewhere? Stay where you live? Take a break from studying and tour the world?"

"I always imagined I would go to the University of Washington." He frowned. That was where Bella would be. He applied to other colleges like Washington State (and had joked about going there), but he was banking on the college where Bella would go to.

"Why the frown?"

He sighed. "I never really thought about it."

"So you never thought about what career you would pursue? If you would go visit other countries after high school before you go to college?"

The frown remained. "Not exactly."

"Why?"

"I always thought I could pursue a music degree and teach piano."

"Where's your passion, Edward? You love music, I know that. But it's not like it sets your eyes aflame. It doesn't… move you."

He closed his eyes, to avoid looking at her. Beyond Bella, he had no other passion.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." She said softly. "I can see it's not-"

"No." He cut her off. She let him in. It was his turn to let her in. Then he'll ask her to tell him about the Philippines, her family and herself and forget about his rather bleary life. "I want to tell you something about me. I'm in love with my best friend, who happens to be a girl who is with someone else."

She laughed, and he opened his eyes, hurt by her response. "I'm sorry for laughing." She said, in between laughs.

His gaze hardened and he was about to get away from her when she felt her squeeze the hand that was still in his possession. He stilled at the action and looked at her.

She stopped laughing. "I'm sorry. My mind was running through a million thoughts about why you haven't thought about your future. I figured, you were just lost and you can't pick a career. I even thought you were settling to teach music because you didn't have enough confidence to pursue your dreams of being a well-renowned musician, especially because I deduced earlier that you were a good pianist. I never thought that you would have the most cliché situations of all time; which is being in love ­with someone. Add the factor of the one you love being your best friend who is with someone other than you; and there you go…"

He had to admit. He was laughing too. "When you put it that way, I feel pathetic."

"You can feel like it, but you're not. I'm really sorry I laughed."

"It's okay."

"You love her that much, that you planned an entire future with her in the center of the picture?"

"Pretty much." He heard her mutter "knucklehead" under her breath. "What?"

"Nothing. If I wanted you to hear it, I would have said it to your face."

"I gather what you said wasn't nice."

"No, it wasn't. But I am really sorry I laughed – unrequited love is not a laughing matter." Her voice got softer and she really was sympathetic to him. "So you were about to say something else before I laughed. I'm assuming it's because you want to tell me about her?" At his nod she prompted him to tell her about her.

"Bella and I grew up together; and did a lot of things together. We had many conversations just like this, where we would be in my bed, and we would just talk about anything or even nothing. We were very comfortable with each other. We had a connection that would rival twins! I was the brother she never had… except what I felt for her was never about being a brother."

"Ouch."

"Yeah."

They were silent for a moment. Then she said something that confused him. "I lied to you earlier."

He furrowed his brows. "What about?"

"About the cops. They never told me about you." She was careful with the words she said, and he knew she was thinking of how to phrase her next sentence. "I woke up for a moment in your car. You were staring out into space."

"Oh."

"You looked like you were running away from something."

He smiled bitterly. "I was."

She rubbed his hand much like the way he was rubbing her back earlier. As if she was trying to comfort him. "From her?"

His bitter smile faded at her actions. "From everyone."

"Does everyone you know, know about her?"

"We are in the same circle of friends. And I attend a small school; I live in _Forks_."

"Ah." She knew what he meant. "That's got to be hard."

"Yeah." He twisted their intertwined hands so that he could play with her hand again. She let him. "It's bad enough that I know she's with somebody else… but everybody; my friend Jasper, and my parents - keeps bugging me to do something about it since I don't like the situation."

"Did you ever tell her about what you felt before she and the other guy got together?" He shook his head. "Were you about to?"

He snorted. "No."

"Did you think you will just stay together? Like one of those by default situations?"

"Yeah. I did." She was silent but he knew what she was thinking. "You don't need to censor what you're thinking."

"And what's that that going to do?"

"Absolutely nothing."

"No, not nothing. It's just going to hurt you. I didn't _censor_ what I was thinking. I said nothing because I was thinking about how good it would be to have the magical world of Harry Potter existing right about now."

He laughed. "What on earth?"

"I know. I was thinking of the handy spells and potions we could use right about now." She let out a few chuckles before quieting. "What do they say anyway?"

"What I already know – I should have told her while I had the chance."

She shrugged awkwardly. "You still do."

His jaw dropped. "Are you crazy?"

"Why not? You could devote your entire future building a time machine that will take you back in time. You could tell her even if she's with that guy. Unless you'd like to wait until they break up next year or five years from now. Better yet, tell her the day she marries during the whole 'if anyone would like to oppose this marriage speak now or forever hold your peace' part and you're dressed as the male of honor." He squeezed her hand hard. "OW! Edward!"

His laughter betrayed his ire at being teased. "I think that's the first time I laughed about the ridiculousness of what they're telling me to do." Because that's what Jasper and his parents were telling him. Confess now, since Jake didn't really stand a chance against him – because even if Bella's conscious didn't know it, her subconscious was head over heels for him.

"And I think my hand just died."

"Sorry." He wasn't, not really.

"Anyway, there's a couple of reasons why they're telling you to get a move on and tell her. You know what they are. But don't tell me you've never considered an alternative."

Her words riled him up. "If you're telling me to move on from Bella -"

"Not that, knucklehead! I know better than anyone that moving on from someone is easier said than done."

His anger faded immediately. "Oh." He forgot. She was experiencing something similar.

"Anyway. I was **thinking** if you ever considered taking this time to focus on yourself. Get some things done _for you_. Hang out with more and different people? You have a car, get a job at Port Angeles as a server or something for pocket money – you can never have too much money. Learn something new and difficult like whistling – I can't whistle for my life. Try learning web design, Chinese (both Mandarin and Cantonese), or golf! Write a book. Oh! Compose music and put it together in an album then sell it on SNOCAP!"

He was laughing but at the last sentence he stopped holding her hand and wrapped that arm around her and pulled her close. "Stop, stop. I get the point. No, I haven't considered that. But thanks to you, I now will." He felt her shake in laughter too. "You're absurd, Kilani."

"And your face is red."

He knew he must be as he was trying to keep his chuckles at a low volume. "Why are you stating the obvious?"

"That was kind of the point."

He shook his head and just laughed with her for a little while, not thinking about the absurdness of the situation or about anything else. As he did, he felt all of his worries fly away.

--

_**??/??/2029**_

I could see the disbelief in my seventeen-year-old's eyes.

"Really? Just laughing did that?"

I sighed at my son's impatience. He would learn. He's still so young. No matter how much he looks like a grown-up, he's still so young. "I _didn't realize_ it then. Not until years down the line. But yes. Just laughing did that. It wasn't the act of laughter – it was the act of just being. To be honest, if I knew how that laughter started to change me – I think I would have refused it. But I wasn't thinking, and I had forcefully pushed away any inner voice at that point. Sometimes, thinking is not… conducive of living in positivity."

I knew my son was more lost and confused. So I urged him to stand and leave our perch. The rain had let up for a while. As we walked through the expansive grounds of a Washington park, I continued my story.


	5. Miracles Happen

**DISCLAIMER: I LOVE WRITING AND EARNING ZERO DOLLARS FOR THIS! WHOOOO!! (Because I don't own anything you recognize, you dolts!)**

AN: I wondered if anybody still read this... but then I realized, I didn't care. I turned a year older yesterday and came to the conclusion that I love writing, and knowing I accomplished something at the end of the day when I post the following chapter - even if no one's reading. Thank you kindly to those who care to leave me a review but my thanks also extends to those who simply read the story - you guys are sticking with me, and I love you for that. I hope you enjoy where this is heading even if you don't say so.

**I love my beta, flamingo1325, because without her my writing will not be so flavorful and complete. Read One Day for Bella lovers, Twice In A Lifetime Singer for Team Edward, and others of her work for more TwiFi reading pleasure!**

* * *

**It Didn't Matter**

**Chapter Five: Miracles Happen**

* * *

Dr. Cullen came by to return the cell phone and interrupted their laughter with a raised eyebrow. "Don't let me stop you guys from partying." He didn't comment on their close proximity or the fact they were sharing a bed as he came closer to hand the owner her mobile.

Kilani pointed at Edward. "He started it." She slowly accepted the phone, and Edward felt her tense ever so slightly. He wondered why as he recalled the fact that whenever he mentioned anything about the gizmo she shut off a little.

The young man noticed that the model of the phone was not something he usually saw in stores or on TV. He thought that might have contributed to her protectiveness of it. But then why would her eyes darken when she heard about it?

He focused on Dr. Cullen, who was smiling at them as he looked through her charts, making notes in it. "I don't see any reason why we would have to keep you longer than tomorrow morning; especially when we have received consent from your guardian to discharge you when Edward's parents get here. I think I'll cancel your psychologist appointment as you seem to have complete function of cranial activities, particularly, speech. I'll write a note to the police not to push you to answer their questions as no one else was hurt. You, after all, have the right to remain silent."

Edward felt her breathe a sigh of relief. It was so quiet he knew that the good doctor didn't hear her do so. "I was wondering when my citizenship rights would come into play," she admitted.

"I spoke with your aunt. She said she's coming as soon as she can, but rearranging her flight and conferences is a bit tricky to do."

Kilani winced. "I am in so much trouble."

Dr. Cullen turned serious. "Why do you say that? She's incredibly happy you're alive, and well. Does she abuse you?"

"NO! No, no. My aunt is great. And I know she's really happy I'm alive. But she is never going to leave me alone, now. It took me months of begging for her to take on this opportunity, and then I get into a car accident."

"Well, she's just concerned about you."

"Then she'll have to tell my parents." Edward heard her sniffle and wondered if she started to cry. "I don't want her to tell my parents."

"She can't avoid this conversation with your parents," Dr. Cullen said lightly as he walked around the bed to sit in the chair the nurse and Edward were sitting on earlier. He handed her a tissue from the tissue box on the bedside table. "She has to tell them, surely you know that."

Edward started to rub her back letting her know he was there with her and she wasn't alone.

"I know. I just don't want them to worry."

Dr. Cullen laughed. "They're parents – it's their job to worry."

"Do you have kids, doc?"

He shook his head. "Sorry if I gave you the wrong impression."

"Well, when you are finally ready to settle down, you'll be a good father."

Edward laughed. Dr. Cullen was amused. "Why, thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Okay, I'd love to sit around some more and chat, but I have other patients to take care of." She nodded as he stood. "Those fifteen seconds hit the spot." She and Edward cracked up. "Go to sleep, it's almost four."

That surprised them and the good doctor had a good laugh as he exited the room.

Edward remarked, "I didn't think we were talking that long."

"Me neither. But I don't really want to sleep."

He didn't want to either, but he knew they needed to. So he devised a plan to make her fall asleep which will sate his curiosity about her background. "Tell me more about the Philippines. You never got to tell me about where you lived."

"You're not going to let that go, huh?"

"Not a chance." She sighed. "Come on. Besides, I've been wondering how asking me questions about my future plans – which made me feel really pathetic, by the way – pertained to your story."

"You remembered. Your memory is frighteningly sharp, Edward."

He whispered in her ear. "Not so loud! People think it's freaky!"

She laughed. "You'll be surprised how many people in the Philippines would envy that memory."

"Well, then help me understand why. I might move there."

She snorted. "You'll melt then you'll be mosquito food."

"Stop veering away from the subject! I answered your question, it's not fair you wouldn't answer mine. Tell me about where you lived!"

"Technically, that's not a question." He squeezed her midsection in a silent warning. "Okay, okay, fine. But this is pretty long; and it's history. Don't you dare sleep on me."

"I won't." He promised, knowing he would keep it. Only after she fell asleep, would he dare try to sleep. He was genuinely interested to find out about her country; to find out about her. He didn't try to understand this compelling feeling. It scared him. So, he didn't think about it at all. "And I love history." That too, was no lie. If he didn't, he wouldn't be taking Non-Western Civilization as an elective. Instead, he would likely be taking a class with Bella, but he rapidly pushed away those thoughts, surprised that they even popped up, given his current interest in Kilani. "So you were about to tell me about how your parents came to own a plot of land… and don't you dare get distracted."

"I won't. You're so pushy…" She sighed. "I guess I'll start with something you can easily relate to. I asked you about your future plans, because my dad was sixteen when he started college. By the age of eleven, he knew where he wanted to go. By eighteen, he had a house to call his own, a job he loved, and a wife to keep. You see, he made a list of lifetime goals. And to my knowledge, he has accomplished each and every one, so far. But before that, he lived with his parents. And it was because of his parents that he met my mom, actually – if it weren't for them, he wouldn't have gone to the city at all."

That impressed and astounded him. But then he remembered how different the American culture was from others. Strangely enough, he felt like he was in Non-West History; and he was ready to learn. He was never more proud of his idea… not only was he starting to wear her down, he was also learning.

He let her shift around to get comfy and arranged himself in a similar manner, spooning into her. "Keep going." Not for the first time during the night, and certainly not for the last – he was eager to hear more. He knew they had only a short amount of time together, and he wanted to learn as much as he could in that time.

"Like I said, my father already knew what he wanted in life. And what he wanted was to give his parents a good life, for raising him the way they did in thanks. And he also wanted to live a type of life where he would have a nice job, a big house with housekeepers and a large family, as did his siblings. But they lived in… the country as opposed to the city, where the good jobs all were. And they also lived when the Philippines was under Martial Law."

"Isn't that when the President gets rid of Congress?" Though the United States wasn't a country back then, the Colonies suffered a _similar_ (not exact) situation with Great Britain that broke out into the War of 1812. As she spoke, he tried to grasp what she told him by looking for any familiar situation in American history. It was the only way he could really understand.

"Exactly... Marcos wanted to do a lot of good things for the Philippines to improve the state of the country, like build roads to connect various parts of the country to Manila… but the Legislative branch of the Philippines kept vetoing him, so he basically said, screw it. You're fired! But the thing is, his goons and everybody who worked under him abused the power he gave them. Even his wife, who happened to have come from poverty, seized control of the presidency so they get to keep the money. You might have heard of her, Imelda Marcos?"

"Imelda… didn't she own a thousand pair of shoes or something?" Alice was talking about a woman owning enough shoes to outfit the entire Clallam County once in Non-West.

"Try three."

"Geez, what does she do with three-thousand shoes?" _How could one own so many pairs of shoes?_

She shrugged. "Beats me."

"Geez."

"Geez is right. So anyway, even if Marcos did some good things for the country, his men committed an equal, if not more, amount of atrocities. Not to mention that eventually, he got sick, and became a mere puppet of his second-in-command as well as his wife. Sorry, I got a little carried away with history… the point is, life in the Philippines was very difficult; especially in the provinces. It always has been. It still is, actually."

He couldn't comprehend how life could be so difficult for the Filipinos all around and he figured that the only way he would is to experience it. Maybe he'd go there as a foreign exchange student when he goes off to college. He wanted to understand their livelihood as it interested him so. Now, he was even more eager to reach this section of his Non-West History class; he was almost eager to compare the different ways of life within even the one area. "So I'd imagine your father and his siblings' only choice is to move to the city."

"Yes. Except for my grandparents and my aunt, who was born in 1958 - my uncles and my dad moved away from the province. My dad is the third eldest of six children. He and his older brothers ventured to Manila by themselves a month before he turned sixteen."

"How did they manage?" He could see she was starting to get tired. He inwardly smiled. If she would just keep going, she just might fall asleep in no time. At the same time, however, he knew sleeping would take away precious minutes in which he could learn so much more about her, and her background.

But what she said next hit him hard and he wanted her to say even more before she is taken away by Morpheus. "Everybody's passport to good living is education. You could say that having education was survival. So my father and my older uncles excelled in their studies and one by one, they obtained a scholarship to different universities in Manila. Tell me you've heard about Manila."

Funny how she said the same thing Mr. Pullman did. He will have to pick her mind as much as he could. Maybe she has a Philippine History Book lying around, somewhere.

"Not a lot, but I've heard of it," Edward admitted. That topic has been briefly broached during the first week of school and will be expanded when they discuss Southeast Asia later on in the year.

"If I would compare Manila to an American city, it would be any of the well-known cities like Los Angeles, San Francisco, Dallas, etc. So it was like my dad went from Iowa to New York or even Seattle."

"Ah, I could understand the comparison. So what happened to your other uncles? Did they stay in the provinces?"

"No. The other two joined the army who are actually opposed Marcos's faction and later assisted in the coup d'état during the People Power Revolution in 1986. They served under him, but they didn't take advantage of their military privileges to pillage towns, plunder cities and rape women. Even now, I really couldn't figure out how they lived and survived back then in all that corruption. But what I know is that my two older uncles and my dad obtained the lot because of dumb luck. In 1962, the idiots bet their scholarships to refrain from getting drafted into the army against a government official who had bet a plot of land in one of the developing towns in the county of Metro Manila."

"Is that even legal?" _Was that even possible?_, he thought. _Apparently, it was…_

"It wasn't, not really. But it was Martial Law; as long as you had money and had the right position – you have it made. Not to mention that the government official who got beaten was a pretty nice Caucasian. He was a good sport, and very rich. So he gave the entire plot to my uncles and dad before he moved back to America. He even helped them establish careers that would be untouchable by Marcos; and settled off-shore bank accounts for them."

Edward cracked up. "That's insane."

She agreed, "It was dumb luck. You really gotta love Switzerland."

He waved that off. "So what happened next? I don't think they just snapped their fingers and the house appeared."

"Stop being pushy! I am getting there, I swear! You asked for details, instead of bits and pieces!"

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Please, continue." He was getting a bit antsy, since he could feel the start of a yawn coming through his system.

"My dad and my uncles studied hard, graduated with honors then worked their way up the ladder in the jobs (business management for my two uncles, and my dad's an accountant) the American reserved for them. They were able to send money to the province every once in a while since at the time they were staying over at a rich, college friend's house. My uncles and dad helped that friend pass college, so he paid them back by letting them board his house instead of staying in the dorms. When they had enough money saved up, they hired construction workers and built a large one-story house."

"A large one-story?"

"I know. It would have been the perfect bachelor pad… but they weren't bachelors for long."

"Your parents met?" He smiled a bit wearily, getting tired as well. While he was interested in learning more, it was getting really late. But he wouldn't sleep unless she had closed her eyes first. He had always admired his parents, and what they have built for him, but he was quickly developing a respect for her parents. He also began to wonder why she wasn't with them; she clearly admired them, so why was she in the States?

"So did my uncles and their wives. My dad decided that it was stupid of them to have built just one house since they were starting to have their own families.. He started saving up even more money to separate each house for the families. There's more I could add to this story but it's pointless. The end result is my father has a house the size of up to five houses that he lives in with my mom and three of my older sisters and some of my cousins. And now, I would like to say I hate you…"

Before Edward could ask why, she yawned. "Sleepy?"

"Yeah, and it's…" She yawned again. "… your fault!"

"Why don't you want to… sleep?" He echoed her action.

"Because when I wake up, I'll have to face tomorrow."

He tried to grasp the reason why her voice sounded melancholy once more. "Would it be really bad?"

She asked him a question he could definitely relate to. "Tell me. Are you looking forward to going back and seeing Bella with her boyfriend? Forget them sucking face, but just being in the same room knowing that _you_ are not the one _with_ her?"

"Good point… but we do have to face them sometime." He said lightly. "I don't know what happened to you… but it can't be worse than my predicament."

She scoffed at him. "You could tell her you can't be friends."

"I can't do that."

"You had a choice Edward. You still have choices. I don't!"

Edward tried to make heads or tails of what she was saying to no avail. As far as he knew, his only choice is to keep silent. Bella is happy being in a relationship with Jacob, and being just friends with him. Even if it hurt him to do so, he must keep his place as such to keep her happy.

He felt a different pang as he mulled over what Kilani said. He wanted to know what happened to her, since she was in as much pain as he was. She seemed to understand his situation, and though she joked, she almost seemed to sympathize with him. "I have one choice, and I took it. But with you, I don't understand. I can't understand until you tell me what happened."

She sighed in resignation. "The thing is this, Edward. I wasn't supposed to be driving. I was crying, and I was upset. I didn't want to talk about it, because I know it was stupid. I know that I was wrong to have reacted that way when I answered my stupid phone as I was on the way to Tristan's house..."

She didn't make sense. But he was alarmed at her next action. He saw her grab the cell phone, and pulled back her arm as if she wanted to hurl it at the wall. He moved as quickly as he could and took it from her hands.

He felt her shake in anger. He didn't know what to do. He was at a loss when she started crying. He tried to calm her down with words he usually heard Alice tell Jessica or Lauren because of some reason or another, "Hey it's gonna be okay…"

She hiccupped, completely ignoring his attempt. "Why are you guys so stupid and mean?"

He really didn't know what to say to that either. He put the phone aside and just held her. She didn't fight him and even turned around to hug him. It surprised him to see her break down like this, but he also felt relieved that she seemed to need him as much as he seemed to need her right now. He couldn't explain it, and he doubted he would ever try, but none the less, they needed each other right now. He watched out for the needle and arranged it as best as he could.. After he was done, he patted her hand gently. "Shhh. It's okay, it's okay."

Eventually he got an, "I'm sorry. You're not like the rest of your species. You were born a hundred or so years ago."

He chuckled lightly. "It's okay." He rubbed her back and just let her cry. "If you need someone to talk to, I'll be here, okay?"

Then the words flowed from her. It warmed him on the inside when she showed that she trusted him enough to open up like she did. When she stripped herself raw and he fell into her history. She trembled as she spoke about a guy he would like to punch more than he'd like to punch Jacob and he tried his best to calm her down. He said, "You don't have to keep going."

"I have to," she whispered. "I just need to get this off. The only one who knows how I've been feeling lately is Lisa, and she's not here to help me _at least_ verbally kick his ass."

He chuckled a little. He admired her inner strength and how she just made the situation lighter. He admired how she always seemed to be able to make the situation lighter, including his own. Already, he was feeling more relieved about where he was in life than he had in a long time, even if only temporarily. Soon, he would have to face Bella, Jacob and Jasper; but for now, he was weightless thanks to her. "Okay. Just go on when you can."

And she did. Oh, she poured out her heart. Edward struggled to keep his hands on her back, evenly stroking it. On her behalf, he wanted to storm out of the room and hunt the guy. He felt so protective of her and even if he didn't understand why, he let the emotions course through and envelope them both. Somehow, they both needed it.

Still she spoke, finally getting to the point of her confessions. He learned the jackass was simply toying with her and it drove her to pieces (maybe insanity), and almost killed her. His blood boiled. Tristan better not cross paths with him anytime soon, or else his face would meet the end of his fists.

Somehow, his hands continued to rub her back and he spoke once she let him get a word in, "Shhh, it's okay. He's not worth it."

He felt his heart break for her when she brokenly whispered, "The worst part of this is, I know I still love him. That's why I am crying. That's why he's still on my speed dial. He gave me the phone, you know? He ordered it online, knowing the design is only from Asia. I've taken great care of it, made sure it's mostly in mint condition and never let anyone else even touch it because _he_ gave it to me. If he apologized for not admitting to me that he had a lover on the side, I'd forgive him. I might even take him back. I just want to be his…"

Edward understood her feelings, despite how cliché they may seem. In that moment, he felt everything drop between them. Any pretenses they had kept, any walls that had yet to crumble, and secrets they were trying to still hide; it all fell away. There was no going back from this point for either of them.

In that moment, Edward decided to tell her about Bella. Everything about Bella, from the day they met (according to his father's knowledge, anyhow) until today. He told her how he kept crawling back to her after taking long drives. He even talked about how he realized that part of him liked being involved as he was with the car accident since the event is making him think of something else. He told her that he felt guilty since he thought he caused her to lose focus and drive off the side of the road. But most of all, he told her how everything that has happened so far has taken his mind away from his pathetic life, that he can't help but want more distractions.

As he spoke about the one subject he had forced out of his mind before, Edward marveled at how he didn't have to control his rampant emotions and thoughts. It was as if he had detached the part of himself he had in Forks and made it into a mere fictional character. So he felt free as he divulged his innermost thoughts to her, as if he was thinking out loud, with no need or desire to censor himself. At one point he had wondered if he should feel more reserved than he was. Despite the stories they've shared, they were still strangers after all.

At another point, he wondered if the reason he felt so open and ready-to-bare-all was because they both had a near-death experience. If he had less a presence of mind like she had, they would have collided – there was no doubt about that. As things stood, it was a miracle she didn't have a scratch.

Miracles. People didn't believe in miracles until they see them. Well, he had seen one. Edward was holding the proof of a miracle. Previously, a part of him might have believed that Bella's existence was a miracle, but he was beginning to question the validity of such a statement, given the recent events he witnessed. Maybe that was why he felt drawn to her, and why he felt at ease with her. Because she survived a crash another less unfortunate soul wouldn't have. At least someone else wouldn't have walked away unscathed from. If nothing else, they were both kindred spirits who had _miraculously_ crossed paths. And he felt that this particular spirit uplifted his own; which had made it entirely possible that her mere presence was something he needed to be able to escape from his reality. That she was his escape.

Edward replayed the scene in his mind during one of their comfortable pauses from conversation. Suppose that he didn't honk his horn and he simply swayed out of the way. His temper would have gotten the best of him. Whatever anger he felt throughout that day would manifest then and there. Any gentlemanly pretenses he usually strived so hard to uphold would have evaporated. He _would have_ taken everything he felt out on her. He would have turned his car around, tailed her until she stopped and pulled over. He would have blamed her, which meant that they would have met anyway, even if they would be squabbling with one another.

As far as he was concerned, this meeting was the more fortunate one. He would have sacrificed, even if unknowingly, the chance to make a new friend in Kilani; the chance to find his escape if he hadn't honked. However small, it was a miracle that his brain decided to take such a simple course of action and allow him this chance. But in either reality, they would have met. And he would have forgotten Bella in either occurrence. And he would have welcomed that respite, no matter how brief a moment it would have been. He would have just hunted another distraction, or maybe he would have turned to anger as one and who knows where he would end up. He shook his head to clear his mind. That was a dangerous path. He didn't need anger. Not right now.

Thankfully, his distraction had spoken up, once again understanding him almost better than he understood himself. "So, you were driving to take your mind off a girl who you can't get out of your mind anyway; and I was driving away from a guy I feel exactly the same way you do with your girl. Ironic." She was wiping some more tears which she silently shed and he chalked it up to her being a girl. He resisted the urge to wipe them away for her, no matter what the cause of them.

"Yeah." He settled for rubbing her back.

She started hiccupping and he carefully sat them up. Instead of letting him get out of the bed, she reached for the liquid condiment on the bedside table by the window. Together they finished it. Since neither felt sleepy after her breakdown and after his final confession about what was really happening, they continued to exchange stories. They compared home schooling and public schooling. He told her a bit more about Forks, being a boy scout with the Quileutes and his parents. In return, Edward learned that she was extremely smart and admired the fact that she knew more than enough to have a G.E.D, if she chose to take the test. He wondered if he was as smart as her… she made him feel a bit small with her worldly knowledge, but she also ignited an entirely new desire in him to embark on his own journey for such vast worldly knowledge. She was providing him with yet another outlet to distract him from Bella.

Then, he started to wonder about his future. Talking about Philippine history made him question how other cultures outside of the usual American culture were. He was most interested in Asian, since they have so many traditions and have a different fashion. He was looking forward to the unit where they would learn about people of the Orient and India since they were the most different. Poverty was a subject that always mystified him. He came from a really blessed background, where his ancestors had come from a lot of money. Money he could use for a world of good… and just maybe… he could use it to visit the Philippines after senior year.

Maybe he could travel Asia before starting college. The future didn't seem so bleak, when he thought about it that way. He liked it. He even looked forward to it. It was possibly a future without Bella, but suddenly, that idea didn't terrify and upset him as much as it had only hours ago.

Dr. Cullen popped in again just before seven; he was getting ready to take a nap in the on-call room. He scolded them for not sleeping, but had a nurse bring them water and some crackers.

They ate and drank and told each other a bit more about their lives. Between sentences, they started yawning, and their bodies finally started to give up to Morpheus. Both were about to drift off when Kilani said, "Hey Edward?"

"Yeah?"

"How did you feel when you and I nearly collided?" She sounded as if she was still trying to fight against sleep with the vestiges of alertness.

He thought about it, and decided to tell the truth, "I think I felt a bit blank… but it's like I saw my life flash in front of my eyes."

"Oh, I hope it was interesting…" She lost.

"Mmmhmm…" He smiled when he saw her close her eyes for the last time, as she still faced him. He closed his own, giving up without a fight, involuntarily pulling her just a little closer to him.

Then both finally slept.


End file.
